Reaper
by Crazy Foxie
Summary: I existed to reap one soul to save another. I heard my calling, even before I was dubbed the Graceful Assassin: smite the Superior and tear apart his scheme. I vowed to save the Organisation, and when I saw my first friend as Luxord, I knew I would succeed. Light Marxene.
1. Purpose

**A/N: **I have done this as part of the Kingdom Hearts Big Bang Challenge. Huge thanks go to my artist Rubberflippers for the accompanying artwork (found on my profile) and to minntaka/Lily for the FST. There is a lot of death in this, just a warning.

Anyway please read and let me know what you thought!

* * *

**I. Purpose**

It doesn't take long to break a man. It takes years to build his trust, get to know him, but it's incredibly easy to find his faults and flaws. That is human nature. We naturally seek out the bad aspects of others so we can say we are better than them. We watch a man do a job and know we could have done it better. We see their partner and know she could have done better.

Such a superiority complex, no matter how well hidden, exists in us all. The need to undermine peers and enemies alike, however brief, is the one thing that makes our existence worthwhile. There is little sense in living life without something to compare ourselves to – how else can we possibly live in such a pitiful state if we don't? How else can we live with ourselves day after day? By grinning and bearing, tormenting ourselves with overbearing arrogance or lack of, it is only then we realise we are worth so much more.

And for those few who fail to see that, there is no hope for them to truly see themselves as they are until someone else steers them in the right direction. Although each man looks out for himself, fighting to become better than everyone else, it is only through one another that we can evolve.

My name is Liam Salvato and I will cut the shackles that bind your soul.

**-x-**

The wonderful thing about Traverse Town was that it was dark. It wasn't only in the physical sense, where only the neon signs and lamplight tore through the deep blue; the citizens, too, as they watched strangers pile out an equally strange spaceship, were clustered together in defence yet didn't say a word to one another. They simply looked.

I ducked my head as I exited the small doorway of the Gummi Ship. There was an audible gasp from the crowd, one that I had anticipated beforehand. Although it was standard in Radiant Garden to have unusual hair colours, this was not the case in Traverse Town. I pushed back a few clumps of pink hair, which was a mess even before the three hour journey to this world.

"Mummy, is that hair real?"

I didn't care much for children, but they could certainly project what the adults were thinking without coming off as insulting. Innocent in their words, they longed to understand anything and everything around them. The boy was curious, and curiosity was something I encouraged by principle.

The boy was unfazed as I, a stranger amongst many, stooped to his level. The boy was no older than seven, but the way he stood tall and kept his arms folded was more than enough to say, "I'm older than I look".

"It's not fake. You can pull on it if you want to make sure."

And, like all children, his eyes lit up and he was keen to take up the offer. And, like all mothers, she swatted his hand and steered the boy's shoulders away from me. Adults were vile creatures, especially the parents. What could they possibly know about their child's best interests and when to draw the line of overprotection?

The boy was unhappy at first, but he didn't fight as his mother forced him to fall back.

I narrowed my eyes at her and she did the same to me. Although no words were exchanged between us, the friction was evident enough to follow me for the duration of my stay at Traverse Town. She was miserable and bitter; there was little point in me trying to get on her good side.

More residents from Radiant Garden piled out of the Gummi Ship. I didn't care for much as Yuffie, a child with questionable morals, hid behind Tifa's legs. I wondered with mild interest why Cloud, the pre-decided team leader, had chosen not to leave the ship, and was instead helping shut down the aircraft when the pilot was more than capable of doing it alone.

Of the handful of us that had escaped the black hands that pulled our world into a suffocating embrace, who was to say that we had truly deserved to be saved? Cid, the inventor of the Gummi Ship, had tirelessly worked on its development and through those efforts, he had only deemed one safe to fly. By extension, what made us any better than everyone else who had now passed on, other than the fact we had connections? If there had been no prior knowledge that the end was to come, and from a magician off his rocker no less, we too would have been engulfed. In the philosophy known as survival of the fittest, what made us better than everyone else?

"Liam, is something wrong?"

A gentle hand on my elbow was enough to pull me out of such reflective thoughts. I had known Aerith Gainsborough for longer than everyone on the ship combined, and it was because of her I was here in the first place. Of all things, she had invited me to help her with the garden before our home world fell. In the midst of us trimming hedges and weeding, the countdown had already started.

As much as I wanted to ask why she had chosen to save me, I couldn't bring it up. I gave a small smile. I tried to sound offhand as I replied with, "it's nothing," but there was a glimmer in Aerith's eyes that suggested she wasn't easily convinced.

She laughed as she withdrew her hand into the folds of her hair. "When people say it's nothing, it's usually because they don't feel they're able to say what's bothering them. But…if you do change your mind, let me know. You'll feel better."

Aerith and I weren't exactly friends – more trusted acquaintances. We had met on several occasions, although in her case, she was mostly there to discuss business with my father. When she was stuck with me, she often talked of the renovation project for the town fountain and the flowerbeds that lined the plaza. She led the conversation most of the time; I was only there to listen as apparently everyone else back home had exhausted the topic.

However, as one meeting led to another, it wasn't the project or my father's plans that slipped into conversation. She began to talk more about herself and her life to me, and I couldn't return the gesture. She would talk of her best friend Tifa and their fruitless attempts to make Cloud and Leon get along. But by having no friends or nothing much to speak of relatives, it was simply easier for me to take an interest in hers.

Perhaps that was why, as I nodded to Aerith's suggestion of talking later, I found it hard to believe I would do so in the future.

The crowd started to thin as one of the townsfolk insisted their hospitality on the foreigners – a drink, a place to rest, I had missed out what he had said. Looks of curiosity were seeping away, some faster than others as questions were thrown left, right and centre. In the midst of the new form of confusion, it was certain that we had to mingle one way or another.

As part of adaptation, we had to conform to this new world and make do with its resources. In the next week or so, we would definitely lose some of who we were to adapt to the new surroundings. Accept new customs and take on board new culture. Don a new mask to bury our original selves.

Even if I did so, nothing could alter the fact my soul was damaged, and each move I made was that of a toy already broken.

**-x-**

The day Dahlia drew her first drop of blood, I knew instantly what my mission was. Many people wandered aimlessly in life, as I had to start with, often never finding their purpose of existence, but mine dawned with a burst of realisation.

The beast lay before me, atop a bed of red and dark slate. All his blood, not mine. In his sacrifice, he had left behind a better place; one that could grow from his mistakes and create a stronger foundation in his wake, as retribution for the untimely loss. His death meant more than anything he had amounted to in life, or ever hoped to achieve. That was the mentality of Liam, and as I felt the first shred of remorse brush past, I realised that he had it all wrong.

It wasn't through killing that the world became kinder. The world strived from self-sacrifice.


	2. Tranquillity

**II. Tranquillity**

As I correctly assumed, the first few days in Traverse Town were nothing short of a game of charades. The people grew more accustomed to us, and then their masks of hospitality ebbed. They started to realise that although we were aliens, we weren't anything beyond that and didn't deserve special treatment. They talked with Tifa first, who was naturally a people person from working in a bar. Surly gentlemen talked with the equally curt Cloud, who made it his business to limit responses to five words before claiming he had work to do.

Sooner or later, they found me. A lot of them had mentioned their amusement that I had confronted Mrs Fowler, the stern mother from my first day. After several strained conversations, I discovered that she was in fact quite the town menace, which made things considerably better for me in terms of first impressions.

The residents had insisted that the lot of us stay at the hotel, but it wasn't long before shelter and food grew a price tag. They had grown tired of acting as good citizens, and decided that we ought to contribute just as much as the next man. Some with certain talents had no problem finding their own jobs and purpose, such as the engineer Cid.

In a place of retail and suddenly more citizens than buildings, it was difficult to find work with my lack of experience (or rather the wrong sort). Although Aerith, with the new world's lack of vegetation for flower arrangement, had wanted my help to restore an almost-new building with her colleagues, I had to refuse. There was only so much I could depend on her kindness and almost loving dedication to watch out for me. Stepping out of the familiar into new territory…it was a scary prospect at first, but it wasn't like I was overly attached to the past anyhow.

The owner of the accessory shop, unlike most retailers, was out and about a lot. Although his store was set up at a good location, it was open sporadically and was more or less closed right when a customer had finished their business with him. In the end, I decided it would be best to wait for him in the morning risk him slipping through my fingers each and every time.

Despite my dedication to the early hours, he was unfazed. He felt for his pocket as he used his other arm to support the box he was carrying. "Good morning, what can I help you with?" The standard greeting was distant.

I gingerly got to my feet, hiding the fact that my legs had forgotten to stand straight. "Let me help with that."

"No no, don't do that," he protested rather aggressively as I reached out for the box. His expression was stern, but with a rounded nose and cheeks that were puffed like a child's, it was not a look that fell into the category of intimidating. "This is…ah," he murmured under his voice, his gaze flittering away from me.

I didn't quite understand, but I knew he wanted me to back off. "I was wondering if I could be an assistant for the shop. I'm a fast learner, so I don't need a lot of training."

My words went unheard as the owner triumphantly pulled out a set of keys. "There they are. Just give me one moment – this bit can be tricky." His tongue stuck out slightly as he put the key through the lock, taking him several turns to get there in the first place. He couldn't be that far off my age, but I knew the look of someone who had more responsibility than they could cope.

He cursed under his breath, and as I tried to take the box from him again, he didn't bite.

After getting the door open, he was quick to reclaim his goods. "Please make yourself comfortable," he added fretfully, cringing as the door swung open to hit presumably a shelf on the other side. He switched on the light as he went in, and I took that as the invitation to enter.

"Do you own this place?" I asked as I took in the sights. There was a ladder set right in the middle of the shop, leading into the attic that I couldn't quite see from this angle. A glass coffee table was dangerously close to the ladder, covered thinly in dust that must have been a result of cleaning upstairs. The sofas and even the counter and till were in a similar state.

He laughed softly as he used a leg to adjust the box to a more secure position. "You're one of the people from the other world, aren't you? For the time being, yes I am the owner. My parents would otherwise be helping out, but it's just me for now." He took the box to the counter, and there was a faint jangle as he set it down. "To be honest, leaving it to me is probably the worst thing they could have done, but it's not like we had much choice."

"Why's that?" I asked, and I knew instantly I shouldn't have asked.

He cringed again, and this time it wasn't because of a door opening with too much force. He raked a hand through his fringe in frustration before rubbing the back of his neck. "It doesn't matter, not really. Point is it's been long enough. I've been trying to advertise, finance and sell at the same time and have got nothing but miserable results. On top of that, the place just decides to have termites tearing down the roof." The owner pouted slightly at the thought of the attic. "I can't give you much of an income or a steady one, so I don't mind if you want to look elsewhere. I mean, seeing as my parents will be out for a while, maybe the wages could come out of rent and you could use…"

"It's better than nothing," I countered. I was certain that the others of Radiant Garden had had similar ideas to me, and the other retail shops now had all the help they needed.

A dark look crossed his face, and once again I had the inkling that my comment went unheard. His eyebrows furrowed as his mind began to drift. "Are you…good with numbers?"

I blinked. "I guess."

"Right." He bit down on his lower lip, but he didn't make it his business to make me aware of what was on his mind. Before long, his eyebrows shot up. "Oh, I'm so sorry – I haven't even introduced myself yet. I'm Charles."

And for some reason, he had sounded happier than I had heard him all morning.

**-x-**

I couldn't stay in Traverse Town, not after my latest kill. I summoned a dark portal to take me far away, and it did just that. Not for the first time, I was faced with the winding path to the looming castle of dull gold. I had no idea what the place was, but the green-topped spires warned me not to approach. It was a peculiar feeling, and although I was curious, it felt wrong.

To leave here, only to come back…was I tied to this place?

"I thought you would return," said a gruff voice behind me. The man was as rough as he sounded, with a large amount of facial hair and dreadlocks tied back. With a black trench coat and an appearance that froze the air, he was a slight eyesore compared to the splendour of the castle behind me. "Do you know who you are?"

I laughed callously. "I know who I'm not."

He gave a wide grin. "That's more than what most say. I'm almost impressed."


	3. Nostalgia

**III. Nostalgia**

Charles was good with the shop despite his earlier remarks. He was very flustered when it came to his work, but was not necessarily a bad thing. By constantly being on the move, he made it his business to give it his all and produce as much profits as he could before he burnt out for the day.

In a space of a few weeks, we had fixed the roof, dusted down the main area of the shop and tidied up the store room at the back of the building to have some semblance of order. Each day, with me minding the store, Charles went out to sell and deliver. When he came back, munny in one hand and dinner in the other, we would then close up and head back to his place a few doors down the road. He made a start on cooking, and I would pore over the backlogged finances as well as the income of the day.

Long weeks followed this mundane routine, but it wasn't long after this constant time with each other that Charles started to _talk_, much like Aerith did.

"Liam, do you have any siblings?"

I shook my head, stabbing a carrot with my fork. "No, just me."

He arched his eyebrows as if to say, "Oh". He picked up his knife, trying to decide the best way to cut his steak. "How did you grow up then? Did you have friends that you considered like family, or were you so close to your parents you didn't mind?"

I made the effort to chew on my carrot longer than usual. I didn't have anyone I considered friends when growing up – more times than what was considered healthy, I thought myself better than my classmates. Although I was my father's son, I couldn't connect to people the way he did. In the end, anyone made sure to avoid me as I them. As for my parents…my mother died mere hours after I was born and my father was a whole other story.

He was superstitious. He had given me the name of one of his many angels in the hopes that he hadn't lost his wife for something evil. He did everything he could to put me on the right path whilst keeping me at arm's length, yet Father's means of coercion gradually changed.

"I managed somehow," I chose to reply. "You have a brother, right?"

Although Charles had avoided talking of it, he had given his spare room to me. However, as I used many opportunities to see the room as it was, I found dents in the carpet where something used to be or nails in the walls where something homely hung from it. It was only so long before I wanted to know who was in there before.

"An older brother," he replied swiftly before putting a considerable bit of steak in his mouth. "I doubt you'll meet him."

I tilted my head. "Is he abroad?" I didn't want to mention the alternative, in case it made the conversation more awkward than it was becoming.

Charles snickered, finishing off his mouthful before answering the question. "That's a nice way to put it, but no. He's around, but because of the nature of his business, he had to abandon us. It happens to the best of us I suppose – depend on someone for too long, and they end up disappointing you in the end."

So that was how it was. "It must have been tough."

"Yeah, it was on all of us." His hands relaxed as he made no move to continue eating. "My mum especially – she's getting some help at the hospital at the moment. My dad really tried to keep the family business going and take care of her, but now he's solely looking after her. I had to cut my studies short to carry on the business, and I took care of the house since my mum was in no state to do it. For a long time, I resented my brother for it."

I gave a weak smile. "Have you forgiven him?"

"Eon was the sort of brother you could count on…after a bit of time. The thing about him is that he would forget a promise and, eventually, he would go out of his way to return it tenfold. He left about three years ago, but I still keep thinking he will come through the front door with something to make up for it." Charles twirled his fork absent-mindedly. "To be honest, I wouldn't mind him coming back just to say hello. What he did though, I don't think it's a question of forgiveness."

"Would you have done it differently then?" I asked. The thing about these conversations was that it eased their burden. I didn't get the impression that Charles had ever spoken like this in a long time, and especially with his parents out, there was no opportunity for him to find out how he truly felt. By burying his head in the sand, there was only so much good it did before it was irreversible.

Charles exhaled sharply. "I have no idea. It's not like I can ever imagine what he was going through – being an older or younger brother is completely different. But it would have been better to say goodbye face-to-face, I guess." He poked at his next bit of meat before opting to eat it at last. "But all that is in the past, so there's not a whole lot I can do about it now. Like you, I'll manage."

**-x-**

Xaldin was the most interesting person I had ever met. Of all the ruffians I had met in Tortuga and the bandits in Agrabah, Xaldin was physically more intimidating than all of them. But the wonderful thing about him was his silver tongue – whilst most assumed people of his stature to be rough, he was verbose and had come from a background of high education.

Even as he explained of absence of our hearts and exactly how I could create portals, his purple eyes examined each and every part of me in a higher form of communication. Through a methodical approach, he was wondering just how dark I was inside. In many respects, he wore the same look my first friend had given me.

In other words, we committed sins, submitted to our inner demons and clawed our way out of hell before it consumed us completely. As a punishment for desiring such freedom, we were cursed with false emotions and were to wander endlessly in purgatory.

Perhaps that was why, as I accepted Xaldin's invitation to join the Organisation, my mind was not on reclaiming lost hearts or saving our splintering soul from the inferno. It wasn't even redemption – I simply wanted to experience new things, like normal, but without constantly feeling the need to be in control.


	4. Admittance

**IV. Admittance**

As more tedious days passed, helping Charles round the store, I realised just how much he was hurting. After three years, he was doing his best to assume the role of his brother, but it was inevitable that his motivation would fall short. He did his best, smiling for customers and suppliers alike, but I knew now that he was breaking inside. Instances where Charles thought I wasn't looking, it was clear his mind was elsewhere. I wasn't much for reassurance, especially as we both knew that his brother wouldn't be coming back, so I only offered fake encouragement when he brought the topic up.

Perhaps that was why, as one day the door of the shop burst open to reveal Charles' dad, it just worsened his feeling of loss.

"Welcome back," Charles greeted a bit too enthusiastically. He covered up that look of disappointment with a big smile and mastered it so well I wasn't sure if he had shouted in anticipation for his brother or not. Where he was supposed to ask how his dad was, he just continued to look, as if he still couldn't believe his eyes and was blaming himself for thinking the impossible.

On the other hand, the dad failed to pick up on any of that. "Thanks, it's good to be home." And as he took his first steps into the shop, I noticed the frail woman behind him. She was in no way elderly, but the way she carried herself could have fooled anyone. She shuffled, and didn't look up from her feet. Her hair had been brushed and swept to one side, yet it didn't make her appearance any livelier.

I assumed she was Charles' mum, the one who had gone to the hospital.

The dad didn't say much else until he set down a bulky suitcase beside the coffee table. "I know from the letters you're doing well. Has anything changed since we went?"

Charles shook his head slowly, and his side glance at the boxes on the counter was enough to suggest he wanted nothing more than to continue unpacking the accessories. "Not really. I told you about Liam, right?" Here he gestured to me with a hand, and he had such a faraway look on his face I knew he wasn't in the mood to talk.

I mustered the best smile I could. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mr Green. My name's Liam Salvato – I've been helping out Charles whilst you've been away."

He shook my outstretched hand as he too did his best to be amicable, or as friendly as one gets when meeting with a lodger. "Please, call me Matthew. I've heard a lot about you. Thanks for keeping my boy in check."

I took this as a chance to laugh softly. "Not at all. I've only been able to help out from where Charles first taught me, so you really ought to be giving him the credit." I hated being modest – it was another way to say that I lacked self-esteem although I had plenty of it. By lowering my head to this stranger I knew very little about, I may as well have licked those worn shoes of his.

But as I crafted yet more overwhelming praise about the insecure retailer, pretending I was worse than I was to make them all feel better about themselves, my words ran like a stream and they both went with it. The tension was unbearable to start off with, but now it felt a little more like what home should be.

After the worst was over, Matthew asked question after question about me. _What was Radiant Garden like? Oh, it must have been nice to have light streaming in. In Traverse Town, it's always been this lame and dingy_, and so on and so forth. And from time to time he would say, "Right Charles?", and Charles would stare blankly at his father before hastily agreeing to something he only just understood.

Whenever there was a gap in conversation, I stole a look at the woman. Although no one had tried to talk to her, she didn't appear to mind. Instead she wandered around the shop a few small steps at a time, often stopping in her tracks to shake her head very slightly. Her face never changed expression, or even did anything much beyond blink, but I instantly noticed her change in mannerisms as she started to finger a pair of scissors on the counter a little too fondly.

In my line of work, I knew depression when I saw it.

Matthew must have noticed my lack of attention, as he followed my gaze, he too realised what concern was about. "I think we've overstayed our welcome. I'll go back to the house and get your mother settled in, all right Charles?"

And, as he guided her by the arm back out of the shop, she barely registered any of it and let her feet carry her away on a cloud. Clearly there was more to the Greens than I could have ever signed up for.

**-x-**

I didn't prepare myself for my first day at the Organisation. Much like I had done with my travelling, I learnt not to expect too much.

In a similar fashion to the mysterious castle, which Xaldin had later revealed as Castle Oblivion, the Organisation's headquarters was a looming building of stark white against the stormy skies. A dark city below was dwarfed in its presence, and although the neon lights were lit and billboards shone down from the tall buildings, I knew that no one lived there. The harder I looked at it, the more I saw Traverse Town written all over it. A haven for the misfits and the misguided.

Xaldin barely gave me a moment to breathe. "Come on, don't fall behind."

I tore my eyes away from a sliver in the wall that acted as a window, pretending that I had no interest in the new surroundings. There was plenty of time to explore after the registration process and introductions.

"Your name was Rauliam, right?"

"Emphasis on 'was'. I don't reply to that name," I replied swiftly. No one had called me by my full name for a very long time. Only Father really called me that, which was even before Radiant Garden fell all those years ago.

I could feel his purple eyes examining me to make sure I wasn't joking. "I guess that's a good thing, since you won't be using that name here. As a means to help leave your past self behind, the Superior has assigned you your new name of Marluxia."

A dry laugh escaped me before I could stop it. So this was how the Superior, on his throne of jewels and everlasting splendour, commanded his masses. Stripped his subjects of their past and their experiences, only to weave what's left towards a greater purpose. If, as Xaldin parroted, we were in pursuit of a heart to become whole, why bury everything we have of ourselves? Why deny the memories if they were the only reminder we mattered before?

The father of the family was a dictator. The same for organisations and businesses. Their dishonest acts to look out for themselves, only to succeed because their followers were too blind to realise, were far from acceptable. To sit atop fame while the world they should care about crumbled around them, devotion replaced by greed and selfish desires. Every word he breathed was a lie, an elaborate brainwashing mechanism to herd his sheep in thinking they never had horns. It was easy to control a flock that wanted to be controlled.

I knew my holy mission now.

I knew what Xemnas was because he was just like Father.


	5. Tension

**V. Tension**

Matthew Green was nice enough at first, but it wasn't long before he made it clear I was a nuisance. He curled his upper lip whenever I offered to help with dinner, clearly disdained with how comfortable I was and whenever I said good night or good morning to him, he grunted in response.

For someone who was bound to the house, it also didn't allow a lot of room for him to complain. Yet that wasn't enough to stop him, for as I started to walk down the stairs for breakfast, I could hear raised voices before I could see who it was.

"…So useless! I know you needed an extra pair of hands, but how long is he staying here? How is any of this going to make your mother better?"

My hand hovered over the banister, and I had the choice to delay the talk of me or let it unfold. The breakfast room wasn't far away at all, yet I didn't need to see him to know who Mr Green was snapping at – to my surprise, Charles was just as loud.

"Well, maybe it's not just about Mum. Maybe if you hadn't decided to stay with her at the hospital, you could have helped bring the munny in! No, I had to earn munny, make a living, pay for her treatment _and_ your accommodation. Liam was the only one who helped me through that when you didn't think to."

The next thing Matthew said must have hit Charles like a brick.

"You're using him as Eon's substitute; I see the way you act around him! I don't care if he's a reject from outer space – what were you thinking when you let him stay here?"

I was aware of Charles' closeness with his brother. After the first hurdle, he started to tell all sorts of stories during dinner. Enough to say he was so dependent, he still couldn't let him go after all this time. Maybe he was using me as a substitute, and although I personally had no qualms about it, what Charles needed was closure.

That being said, I didn't know how much of Eon remained. Eon was in actuality Charles' half-brother, where the two shared the same mother. As it turned out, he had gone with his real dad to claim his inheritance as a successful businessman. A family heirloom that had pulled him from the dregs of society to richness and fame, where not even brotherly love could force him back out. How much of the Eon from the stories of the past remained unscathed?

The voices became softer, and I had to struggle to hear what came next. Something about me, most likely. I couldn't hear the details, but I only needed a few words to know Matthew wanted me out. Have me stay at a hotel, work, but not live in the house where Mrs Green was. Mumble mumble Eon.

But all too quickly, there was the familiar sound of somebody hitting flesh, somebody staggering with such force as a result of it. I didn't hesitate one bit, letting my feet take me down that flight of stairs without a care that I had openly admitted I had been eavesdropping.

Charles was by the partition that separated the dining room from the kitchen – still on two feet but only just. One hand was rubbing his cheek, and he was glaring at his dad with vehemence. "You know it's true. You knew about Eon, and if you took the time to bother, you could have prevented everything. You were just too much of a coward, like always."

The room fell into an awkward silence. There was only the obnoxious ticking of the wall clock that reminded us that the world was moving beyond the hardened stares of ire.

"Get out, both of you," Matthew hissed.

**-x-**

Although I was a wolf in the disguise of a sheep, I had to admit I looked good. I never liked wearing black because it was depressing and reminded me of the many funerals I attended, but maybe this was the one outfit I could get used to.

I took my hood back off for the umpteenth time, and I didn't pay attention to the three petals that appeared out of thin air as I did. There was a growing pile of them on the floor, and though I was amused at first, I grew used to it.

I was the very image of the Grim Reaper himself, the mystical adversary that ended everything ugly and beautiful. Graceful Dahlia, much like how the Grim Reaper's scythe was depicted, was sharper and more terrifying than its skinny frame made it appear. As my father and his father before him said, it was rumoured that when nearing death, people would see cherry blossoms before they were whisked away to the afterlife.

Another petal appeared from nowhere as I let my eyelids flutter open. If my instinct was correct, most of the Organisation had originally come from Radiant Garden like I had, except they hadn't fled the world in time. When the shroud of darkness flooded that world, I was sure they were the ones that were reborn amidst the chaos. I didn't mention to Xaldin during our conversation that I too was born and raised there, seeing as he recognised me just as much as I him, but there was bound to be someone who would.

A portal appeared before me, and I knew that it was time.

"May we welcome Number XI, the Graceful Assassin Marluxia."

Most would have been insulted by the choice in title, but I found it rather flattering. I was who I was, and the nickname was proof they weren't going to turn a blind eye on it. As I entered the Round Room, with its ten pillars of judges and harsh light from an unknown source, the figures of black were intimidating but just like me at the end of the day.

"Would you do us the honour of demonstrating your ability?" Xemnas asked slowly, and the way he delivered it made it far from the question it was.

If I was any ordinary man, my hands would have been sweaty and my legs shaking to support my weight. But I had faced worse situations than this – judgemental freaks of nature were nothing like the first kill or the last. As I flamboyantly revealed my weapon, the outburst of petals reminded me of my father. The strong arc of slitting the throats of greedy pirates that roamed the back streets. The avalanche of pink like the stampede of fierce wildebeests kicking up dust. The slow downfall as the King breathed his last.

Xemnas didn't say anything of praise once I put my scythe to rest. There was a faint murmur to my left, but that too wasn't along the lines of being impressed.

"Thank you, Marluxia. You have proved yourself worthy to join our cause. To commemorate this moment, you are permitted to sit with us." The Superior raised an arm slowly, painstakingly even. "To what height would you like your seat?"

I glanced behind me, and as he said, there was a chair ready and waiting for me. Although short compared to the others, it could apparently be altered to a height similar to its brothers. I buried my smile somewhat as my gaze rested on Xemnas again. "I want it to be eye level with you."

There was a callous laugh to my left. It was loud enough for me to hear, piercing as the shriek of a shrill crow, yet it must have been ear-splitting for his neighbours. Fortunately, his seat was the lowest. "How audacious! Already you consider yourself an equal to our leader – didn't you learn to respect your elders?"

"Vexen, now's not the time," said a lazy voice in the seat next to him, and I had the inkling it was the same member that had mumbled earlier. His hood was down, but I could tell from voice alone he was more youthful than the other members.

The one called Vexen gave an audible grunt of contempt, tossing his head like a stallion would. He very nearly snapped back an equally rude response, but he thankfully opted to complain in an undertone.

Even without Vexen's outburst, I was aware how arrogant I looked to the others. It wasn't a question of self-importance – it was whether they would follow me or Xemnas from now on. It couldn't possibly make sense to them now, but I hoped that it would over the coming weeks or months.

I took my seat without waiting for an invitation or even confirmation my wish was to be granted. I wasn't one for taking orders, and nothing could be done to alter that fact. I could carry out tasks and be the same boring assistant in that pathetic accessory shop, for the sake of saving those nine lost souls.

My chair started to rise, and felt the ends of my mouth tug in disgust as I passed the boy on my right. He was slouching so much he was in danger of falling off his seat, but he did a splendid job of shuddering in that awkward position. But on my other side, I distinctly felt my insides (or lack of) twist as I became level with him. I couldn't see his face under the hood, but the way one arm draped over the uncomfortable armrest wasn't of laziness, but of class.

I wasn't quite eye level with the Superior, but the chair came to a sudden halt. I bit down on my lip as I quietly laughed to myself. Good; he was afraid of me.


	6. Disappointment

**VI. Disappointment**

The three of us didn't talk of last night's events. We kept our thoughts to ourselves, but we each knew our place. Matthew resumed looking after the mother; Charles did everything but look at me. Although I had come to help him during the heated argument, if I had to come in even a bit earlier, I could have prevented it from turning out the way it did. Charles was off with me, either for that reason, or he was doing his best not to see me as his brother. I knew what fathers were like – Matthew was no exception, and I should have realised that from the very start.

With that in mind, as well as Matthew's far-from-discreet desire for me to leave, Eon's inheritance was fast becoming a good solution.

The brother's inheritance came in the form of a casino, deep in the labyrinth known as District Five. The first time I saw the Silver Lynx, I knew immediately what I had to do. With dashing displays of silver, purple and the occasional green strobe lights that shone down onto the pavement and on my skin, I knew I would undoubtedly find my way back there again.

There was a lot to be done: find Eon, get munny and get _out_. Not out of the house, but out of this farcical world altogether.

The first few days I spent at the Silver Lynx were not entirely fruitless. It had the joint benefit of staying out of Matthew's hair and contributing to my ambition. Each evening, I asked numerous waitresses and dealers if they had ever heard of Eon, but no one had. I soon rearranged the question, and when I asked them of the casino's proprietors, they openly admitted that the business was run by the House of Ludor: the current CEO known as King Ludor and the heir Jack, much like the suits. As far as the business went, the employees only knew their bosses by appearance. The true names of the family were a secret not just to outsiders, but further extended to the employees.

Several accounts had mentioned (some more condescending than others) that King Ludor had been running the casino for over thirty years. I didn't ascertain the facts for myself; however I soon dismissed the idea of the arthritic man on his last legs as Charles' brother. Eon was the heir to the Silver Lynx's fortune, and with that it was safe to assume he was Jack. To get to Jack, I had to tackle his aide, Joker, first. Based on what the staff said about Joker, he acted as both a meddlesome advisor and bodyguard. In other words, I needed a viable cover to even get close to Eon, but it was not impossible.

My attempts to increase my savings were dismal. I had big plans to purchase a ship and venture into more lively worlds, worlds that existed beyond an accessory shop and selfish parents, but that hope was getting more out of reach as I lost munny from playing poker, baccarat and blackjack. I was a skilled liar, but apparently I couldn't do it half as well when interpreting others.

In the end, I decided that slots were good enough. Just me versus a machine that spouted out the same programme. Nothing to distract me (other than the ridiculous volume) and no shame in seeing the same dealers. As I put in yet more chips, it was increasingly easy to lose count of just how much I had fed to its electronic abyss. Undoubtedly, there was so much beyond the wall of metal, laughing as it blared out the sound of loss for everyone to hear.

I cursed under my breath as more of my hard-earned wages slipped by. The colours before me flashed in hues of the signature theme of green and purple, but it might as well have spelled 'loser'. I had been at war with this thing for two hours, maybe more, and in that space of time it had spat out only a small proportion of what I had put in.

"Are you having trouble with that?"

Regardless of the fact I could barely think over the racket, I heard that smooth tone perfectly. It wasn't what I classed as welcoming though. I had just about enough, and I wasn't going to stick around for him to laugh at my poor play.

"I give up." I swung off the seat, perhaps a bit too quickly as one foot made a loud thud against the metal. I didn't care that the other players could probably hear us. Maybe the man wasn't talking to me at all, and I had merely caught a snippet of another conversation.

But as I accidentally looked up, the man was looking directly at me. He looked younger than his voice, with a tidy array of blonde that was cut almost ordinarily if it wasn't so precise. His deep eyes lingered on mine for maybe a second before looking away slightly towards the machine behind me. Despite my anger beforehand, I didn't think much as he didn't seem perturbed by the mismatched assortment of cherries and lynxes.

"Might I suggest gambler's fallacy?"

I pursed my lips. There was a fine line between being polite and being persistent. "What is that, some other rip-off game?"

I grabbed at my jacket to make a point that I wasn't going to stay. The man wasn't stupid enough to miss the hint, but as he opened his mouth to speak again, I was disappointed that he ignored it anyway. "It's a professional term that explains the psychology behind cognitive-behavioural attitudes." He made his way to the slot machine next to me before continuing, making the point he wanted to stay and chat. "There's also gambler's conceit and gambler's ruin. It's a fairly simple mechanism in the brain that contributes to your loss."

I really couldn't make myself clearer. "Hey, I'm on my lunch break and would rather not return to work in a worse mood than I'm in already. Speak in a language I can understand." I omitted the fact my lunch break had finished a long time ago.

"If you can understand the basic principles, it's fairly simple to win."

His quick reply was irritating, and as I unintentionally lingered around for a bit of advice, he was more than aware that he had me.

That seemingly innocent encounter – I didn't know it then – was actually the moment someone picked up that broken toy for the first time, with the intent to fix it.

**-x-**

I didn't know exactly how I was going to bring the fight to Xemnas. As I sat through the rest of that dull meeting, when I wasn't trying to look into the Superior's eyes, I used my time to observe his followers. There was a lot of body language that suggested they too had no interest in the topics of discussion, but that wasn't to say they had no respect for him.

The meeting took longer than it should to finish, and when Xemnas made his exit in a dark portal, the members were quick to do the same.

We were connected in our lack of existence, which was perhaps how I could tell where my rightmost neighbour was going before he disappeared – like earlier, they were eager to get as far away from me as possible.

I didn't have a place in mind as I summoned my own portal. Just some place with open air and ventilation, which the Round Room with its vast emptiness seriously lacked. As the darkness surrounded me, I was compelled to get up from my seated position. Where there should have been air was solid floor, where my seat was had now turned into a set of stairs leading down.

What had really impressed me was the large monument that took up a huge amount of space on what seemed to be the roof. There was circulation, like I had desired, but the artefact didn't appear too windswept or rusted to suggest it had been there long. I immediately recognised it as the same shape that was on the floor of the Round Room. There had to be a meaning to it.

I mentally traced its shape, the curves and the vertexes, random yet symmetrical. Leaders and fathers controlled their followers through subtle approaches to not alarm the smarter disciples. By constantly being presented with this mark, was this yet another mechanism to manipulate?

I sighed through my nose. Now that I gave it some thought, our collective mission was to reclaim our hearts. Thinking of heart as the shape rather than the four-chambered miracle of tissue, it was right there at the bottom of the symbol. By that…were our hearts not as fragmented as the Superior was letting on? Granted we couldn't bleed, but what made the heart any harder to steal back than the soul? That had to be the excuse behind his other, uglier motive I had yet to unveil.

I tested my fingers, balling them into fists, and Graceful Dahlia waited just as impatiently to be called to cut him down.

There was a faint whirl behind me, and the casual footfalls that followed were enough to say that it wasn't who I thought it was. "Evening," a light voice called out, and just like what happened in the meeting, I wasn't overcome by unfamiliarity and uneasiness. It was just a sick feeling I had forgotten how to feel, and the hairs started to rise at the back of my neck. The neighbour on my left. "My name's Luxord. I was formerly known as Jack Ludor. We were good friends in the past."

My fingers unfurled as I realised what I had been experiencing: disappointment.

I turned round slowly and, sure enough, Jack Ludor was just as I remembered him. Short blonde hair, that standard look on his gaunt face to say that he had the upper hand and knew it. He carried himself like any corporate leader would, but his grin still pulled ever so slightly to one side – a quirk that apparently couldn't be remedied. It was easy to see it beneath that well-kept goatee.

He outstretched a hand, yet I couldn't bring myself to shake it. For us to part with no inclination to meet again, only to cross paths years later and in a form so different to what we were before. Was this a reunion or a first meeting? Was he really my only friend or was he now a stranger?

He withdrew his hand not too soon after. "Perhaps 'good friends' is a bold thing to suggest. We were a little more than acquaintances some time ago. You may have considered me a colleague."

I could have said the nostalgic, "How have you been," and began the amicable talk of what we did in the missing years of our lives. But I still remembered how we had parted, how I had taken off without so much of a goodbye. Liam Salvato had killed King Ludor as his way of showing gratitude, and didn't even stay to explain why and ease him through the necessary grief.

As much as I wanted to apologise, I couldn't. I held ill feelings about fathers, and although I knew it was for the best, I had to wonder if Jack, or rather Luxord, still hated me for that.

"Really?" I found myself replying. I couldn't believe I was playing dumb, but it was all I could manage. There was an ice sheet between us, and breaking that barrier, even a little, would be enough to bring the torrent that would destroy us both.

Luxord didn't give up though. "We met in Traverse Town, roughly nine years ago. We spent much time at the Silver Lynx."

I gave a light shrug. "I travelled a lot in my time. Names like that just pass by me." I wasn't normally this carefree, and although the lies and deceit were completely natural, it was completely different around Luxord. Lying to a friend was nothing like I remembered it to be. "It's what happens when the memory gets overloaded with information – all the irrelevant ones have to make way."

And I honestly wanted to take back my words the moment I said them.

Luxord smiled weakly. "It's all right. I understand."


	7. Entrapment

**VII. Entrapment**

As it turned out, the advice that the stranger had offered was a loose machine. It was a circumstantial theory at best, but when I went into the Silver Lynx the following day, the one that he had pointed out was vacant. So, like its brothers around it, I had to wonder if there really was something wrong with it. It was almost a shame that it was…if there was any truth in the statement.

I hovered there in one of the many aisles of slot machines; finally, I took the seat before someone else did. From that day forth, I didn't go on any other slot machine except that loose one.

"Hello, we meet again."

That voice made me too anxious in my timing, and the chime of loss once again rang out. Over the past week, that same tune was fast becoming standard, and the fact I heard it less often was a sure sign that I was making some progress. I swivelled round on my seat.

He looked just the same as before. Even when sat down on a tired and fraying seat, his crisp suit and sleek appearance weren't tainted in the slightest. Just being around him made me a bit embarrassed about my choice of attire: a plaid shirt with the first three buttons undone and trousers dusty from the morning shift.

"Yes, it seems that way. Thanks for the tip, I suppose." I waved a hand lightly behind me, so that his attention would at least momentarily be taken off my scuffed and dirty shoes.

He wasn't the sort of man who would be rude to mention it though, even if he noticed. He looked away slowly. "No problem. I've been here for too long."

"Really? I've just started. In case you can't tell." I laughed at my own predicament. I couldn't even make a good profit without having someone else help me. Having big hopes crash down, only for someone else to pick up the pieces, was nothing in short of weakness and disgrace. It ultimately meant that my debt had merely shifted; it hadn't been alleviated at all.

The man didn't know what was going through my head, but he reassured me all the same. "It's always hard the first time." He got off his seat and his classy shoes hit the floor with a noticeable click. "I'm taking it you haven't seen the roulette upstairs. They're something."

I was hesitant to follow him, naturally. We had only met on his terms, and our exact standing was nothing to do with me. If anything, I had the impression that he wanted to string me along and con me some other time further down the line.

But the next thing he said put all those suspicions to rest. Although he had approached me and had no reason to, there was only so much coincidence and luck in this place. In those few words, I knew he didn't have malicious thoughts because through the stories and the suppressed memories, I knew him.

"Call me Jack."

In a haven of chance, there was such thing as fate. How one seemingly random event wasn't random at all, or how one event was always meant to be regardless of logic. This was one of those moments, where as I looked harder at that well-rehearsed grin, I instantly recognised that he was genuinely happy to be my acquaintance.

Jack Ludor outstretched his hand, and I shook it without realising. It was undeniable how much I had to take in, but relief overcame me more than anything. The hardest hurdle of my final mission was already behind me. "Liam," I breathed.

He nodded graciously. "Pleasure. I hope our friendship is a long one."

**-x-**

After Luxord had apparently accepted that I didn't recognise him, our idea of a conversation was a little less forced. Instead of indulging in the past, we talked of the present and our current lives as a Nobody. As a new member, it could easily have been disguised as an act of welcome.

When I asked him how he found the Organisation, his reply was hardly what I had been expecting. Unlike what most people would do in the given situation, he openly said that the people were tolerable and the work was adequate. I didn't ask exactly how long he had been part of it, but I was almost certain that he, like me, was still getting used to the idea of being the underdog. He didn't try to make it out to be more impressive than it was, and that honest opinion was more than I could have asked for. In other words, he knew what I meant by the question.

I hadn't considered at the time that he was simply saying what I was hoping to hear. That was how Jack was – whilst he was good with words and mannerisms, he  
wouldn't lie more than necessary. He didn't need to impress me with high expectations of what was to come now we were on the same boat. He didn't tell me much about himself at all, but as we continued to talk, I could tell he was using every trick in the book to challenge me and get the upper hand.

When he left me to my own devices, he made sure that his final words stuck.

"Although you may not remember, I would like to say thank you. When we were both Somebodies, you helped set me on my path. I am in your debt, and if there is anything I can do to return the favour, I would gladly do so."

That in itself was more than enough. As he went through the portal to his own room, there was the noticeable tug from within, telling me to stop him and admit it was all a farce. Even when the moment had passed, thoughts of turning back time still continued to circle my mind. Nevertheless, I knew this would work in my favour.

Luxord, unbeknownst to him, had signed himself up to my mission. I didn't want to directly involve him, but with his mind as sharp as mine, I knew that he would catch on a lot quicker than anyone else in the Organisation. Although having an ally was the greatest asset to usurping order, much less someone who was familiar with the business, he was my plan B.

We didn't exchange many words at a time after our first encounter. We acknowledged one another in the morning and we had mutually agreed to not extend greetings beyond that. Even so, there was the faint ambiance of what our friendship used to be, whether that was in the Grey Area or as we sat beside one another during the long meetings. When I caught him looking at me, he would nod graciously in apology before turning away. When I went to the Altar of Naught, he wouldn't follow me and disrupt my long hours alone as I thought tactics. We were friends before, and like before, I couldn't bring myself to approach him.

After a particularly tiring mission in Olympus, I knew Luxord would be waiting for me but I didn't care. I had already decided I would hand my report to Saïx, spend a few moments cussing that Nobody symbol on the roof and then turning in to continue formulating my plan to overthrow Xemnas.

I saw what Number X was doing, and that was enough to put a spanner in the works. He too was fully aware I would stop.

He flashed a knowing smirk. "Care to join me?"

My eyes lingered on his before I silently did the first part of my planned evening. I didn't wince as Saïx took the paper with more force than necessary, and I cursed to myself as I took the seat opposite the blonde.

"You mentioned you travelled a lot," he started as he waved a hand nonchalantly. The cards on the table vanished or rather, snapped back into his waiting hand. "Do you know the rules of poker?"

My lips pursed as I fixated on how he shuffled the cards. Random or calculated? Luxord already knew I played, but he feigned ignorance as well as I did. "I prefer blackjack, but I am familiar with the game."

He beamed. "Excellent. I was hoping you would. I've taught most of the members here, so you can imagine how time-consuming it could be."

I almost crossed one leg over the other to mirror his. I wasn't all too comfortable sitting with them crossed at the heels, but it would have to do. "I'm sure you're a good teacher."

I could still remember how, after first introductions, he mentored me in each of the Silver Lynx's games. Not only how to play them as well as throwing me in without full consent, but the sort of tricks only a pro would pick up on and employ. He had claimed to know it through experience, but I knew that it was more than that. He was the casino and the games; he was the very entity of endless risk and profit. There was no way he _didn't_ know.

Luxord was no different as he started dealing the cards. "It makes a pleasant change to challenge a fellow player."

"True," I responded, and much like our past selves, it wasn't just the game that formed the sweet rivalry we defined our friendship by. We were smart, calculating, hoping to figure each other out and trip them over before we did. Like old times, our conversations were worthwhile _because_ we kept so many secrets from each other.

Perhaps that was why, when Jack Ludor and I parted ways, I thought there was nothing else to gain. He showed me who he was, and I did the same as his reward. Sitting opposite Luxord now, with a new set of rules and secrets, it wasn't unlike starting a new pack of cards for another seemingly independent game.

He didn't seem bothered as he revealed the three cards in the middle. All numbered, nothing beyond a ten. "So how did you come to be a Nobody?"

I knew he was going to stare me down, so I took up my cards before he could. "It's complicated," I chose to reply, and it was. I was an aimless wanderer who kept a tally of kills as markers of my life; it would take more than a simple question to tip me.

Luxord pursed his lips. "A story for another day?"

"I think that would be best," I replied curtly. I tossed my three of diamonds and made to pick up what I hoped would be something a little more useful. "Is yours a similar length?"

He grinned somewhat as he kept hold of his two cards. "I believe it starts the same as yours, but it's hardly longer." He chose to ignore me as I rolled my eyes. "I received an enormous inheritance; then I destroyed it."

I knew he wanted me to ask, "Why did you do that?" and I could feel those very words at the tip of my tongue. "Right," I said weakly. I couldn't say much else that would ultimately reveal I knew what 'the inheritance' was, but at the same time I wanted to know where I went wrong.

My time to elaborate came and went, for Luxord continued anyhow. He simply wanted to know what I would do. "It wasn't particularly easy to do it and keep my honour intact."

I threw down another card. "So what made you become a Nobody?"

"I'll tell you if you agree to another game," he replied with an air of confidence, and it was the catch I had been dreading since I had taken my seat. "Do we have a deal?"

My frown grew. "How about you tell me and I'll finish off this game?"

"You're in no position to bargain, Marluxia," he said calmly, and I realised that he had no intention of being backed into the corner at all. He was a gambler by blood – he had already won this round because he made it so.


	8. Echo

**VIII. Echo**

Because of Jack's lifestyle, it went without saying that he would be the one to approach me. There were few chances I could have done it, and of those times the infamous Joker was usually right there with him and I decided against it. Instead, I made the most use of my idle moments and continued to rack up my small fortune. I even talked to Cid, the mechanic who would be building my ship, about my intentions and to discuss payment. I had originally thought of 'borrowing' the prototype that helped our escape from Radiant Garden, and Cid made it perfectly clear by prodding me forcefully with a wrench it was out of the question.

However the named price of several thousand munny was sufficient enough for me to know where my goal was. He had undoubtedly heard what I did for a living from Aerith, earning minimum wage underneath the wing of my employer, but he didn't know about my other contact in the casino.

Jack looked up from his glass of wine. "Your mind's wandering, Liam."

I blinked twice before I let out a small laugh. "Sorry – it's not a habit of mine." We were both sat at the bar of the Silver Lynx, and although the tables were set fairly close to each other, no one sat particularly close to us. Whether it was because they knew who Jack was or because they were deterred by my bold choice in dress sense, I didn't really care.

"I'm sure it isn't, but it must have been some daydream. Is something bothering you?" he asked as he crossed one leg over the other.

Overall, I had made some real progress. It didn't take me long to make preparations to get away from the dullness of Traverse Town. Charles' life was bland, and mine was in danger of becoming the same way. If I left before that could happen, take control of my life before my environment did it for me, I was better off. Jack was the only one who kept me going.

The barstools here were more uncomfortable than the booths that lined the edge of the bar, and I felt my foot slip from the metal frame. "I was just thinking about how we first met. Why did you talk to me?"

Jack's eyebrows furrowed, trying to decide if the question was pointless or sensible. "I have absolutely no idea. Maybe it is that we ought to treasure more than the reasoning itself." He swirled his drink very slightly. "Coincidences happen to the most fortunate, but sometimes those coincidences may not be a good sign."

I snorted. That was the sort of mentality I despised.

"Do you disagree?" he asked curiously, and I knew he wanted to know more about my reaction. Our conversations were more of a broad discussion of our body language and opinions more than our personal lifestyle – the Silver Lynx was a place to let go of everything that happened outside. I let my eyes gloss over my surroundings, and it was then I saw him at the far end of the bar. The man in framed glasses, with greased hair and a look, as described by the staff here, as sour as pickled onions.

I knew it was Joker, but I jerked my head towards him anyway. "Who's he?"

Jack didn't even turn round. He laughed softly, rubbing his temple in mild exasperation. "I told him to be discreet. He is my bodyguard, and I know how hard it is, but try to pay him no mind. You were saying?"

It bothered me to no end, but it was the sort of thing I should have assumed. Of course Jack wasn't going to outwit a trained spy before every meeting. "It's like my father would say. One tiny random event would happen in accordance to some grand plan. Multiple random events, orchestrated by higher beings, led to shape us all. Who's to say that anything is decided for us?"

And as quickly as that, the hate for my father flared up again. I disliked how he used celestial beings to force the world to make sense. I also disliked how he would push his values to individuals and crowds alike. But most of all, I despised he kept pushing them onto me, expecting me to follow the same beliefs as he did without question. He would expect me to lead service, sing, do everything a good son would do. Perhaps that was why, as the years passed, I never felt the love he extended towards his own people.

How could anyone love a father who branded his own son with the name of an angel? How could a human, much less a young boy, be expected to be anything but glorious, perfect and righteous?

Jack laughed softly. "Your father was a clergyman? That must have been hard."

I picked at my floral shirt. "It's my main reason I wear things like this." I had no intention to herd the flock my father left behind. I had no interest in hearing the confessions of people I knew, claiming that all was forgiven under the name of some saint and washing their guilt away.

My father loved his followers and the power that came from it, and he could have made them do whatever he wanted. That was what he was like. That was why I baptised him again, to drown out the evil he so preached against.

**-x-**

Ever since Luxord introduced me to the poker league, I found that mingling with the others in the free hours was nothing like during missions. Whilst people like Xaldin were noticeably more heated in combat, that ferocity was hardly called for in a simple game of cards.

It was almost sophisticated the way each member tossed their cards down or shook their heads. There were a few people who never played or learnt the rules, but Luxord always made it clear that he was happy enough to ease them in if they asked by sitting out himself and playing the role of dealer.

Like in the Silver Lynx, I only really got to see past my colleagues' masks over a game and figure out their deepest motives. Xaldin was a frequent player, but he didn't win as much as he would have liked. He was competitive (further supported by his seat in the Grey Area being the only one save Xemnas higher than mine), but he also accepted loss without much fuss. He had potential; however he was hardly traitor-material.

Xigbar, being the right-hand man to Xemnas, was immediately out of the question. Any risk, regardless of his almost likeable personality, was not worth it. Zexion wasn't much better – he was young and perhaps too knowledgeable for his own good. Any association with the boy who had the Organisation's scientist under his pasty thumb would be asking for trouble.

Then there was Axel, the amicable redhead with more charm than most. I had to admit that he had a lot going for him: undeniable passion, natural talent and the habit of jumping right into what he thought was right (and often coming out on top). Unfortunately, although he didn't say it, he was also the only member from Radiant Garden who recognised me. He knew what I was like, and he quite understandably made extra effort to avoid me. Our last conversation ended with me thinking how easily I could snap his neck.

If anyone, a plausible ally was Demyx. Although he didn't play poker a lot of the time, instead watching us play and making the occasional unwarranted remarks, I knew he only acted that way to bury a darker secret. He, like me and Luxord, hadn't been born the time Radiant Garden fell. Whilst the founders had the fall of the world to fuel their descent into darkness, Demyx had somehow done something of the magnitude all by himself.

At the end of the day though, I knew I had to depend on someone, rather something, a little less volatile. Everybody in the Organisation was under Xemnas' influence – it would be just as easy for them to turn me in before I had even begun.

Zexion mumbled a few words about doing some light reading before bed, and then he got up from the sofa to go to his room. Luxord quirked his eyebrow at me, perhaps half-expecting me to make a hasty escape like I normally did. "What is it?" he asked when he realised I wasn't moving.

I crossed one leg over the other. "I was wondering about the Dusks. Does the Superior control them all?"

Luxord blinked slowly. "I guess. He gets us to whittle their numbers from time to time, but I believe they exist mainly for research purposes. They act in groups and don't have the capacity to think beyond their instincts." He grinned somewhat. "Why bring up such a notion?"

I was riding very close to the conversations of the past. I was fully aware of that; however Luxord was the only reliable contact I had in this group of otherwise dangerous men.

"Each Dusk has its own unique level of dark energy. Hardly a match to beings like us, but a fraction nonetheless. Is it possible for these lesser creatures to kill or combine to create something stronger?"

And is it possible for Xemnas to one day consume us all?

He brought one arm over the sofa in thought – a tendency he did when anticipating a long conversation. It would be best if I didn't draw out the conversation longer than necessary.

"It's certainly possible," he said calmly. "Dusk upon Dusk would create a slightly more powerful one. By consuming another, like any other predator, they absorb more power to survive until eventually, the small fry won't be enough to sustain it. To my knowledge, the Superior hasn't tried this himself so it's hard to know exactly what it entails or even if it's possible."

Luxord waved a hand absentmindedly and willed the cards on the table to disappear. "If anything, it would take an excruciatingly long time for a Dusk to become a maelstrom of avarice."

I exhaled through my nose, running his words in my head again. "You mean a free-for-all with Dusks won't necessarily create a remotely decent Nobody?"

"I mean to say that it would be undesirable. Much like anything, it's prudent for the starting point to be something you're likely to place a good bet on. By throwing Dusks into the arena with no set victor, there is also no set outcome to be expected. How can the weak amount into something they have no understanding of?" He laughed softly as he started to play with his earring. I didn't recall seeing it the first time, but I noticed (for better or worse, I honestly didn't know) that he had taken pride in the one in his left ear of the Nobody's mark. "I don't think I'm making sense."

Much like how Jack was, Luxord tended to ramble. In this particular case, I didn't let it faze me. "Are there any Nobodies that are worth…betting on?"

The last part came out reluctantly, and Luxord made no effort to hide his amusement. "Except us? I recall Vexen explaining something similar to Xaldin some time ago. The way we came to be, we managed to pull out of the darkness and keep hold of our soul, which is why we were able to maintain most of our physical form. Those who are a little less fortunate become Nobodies also; however, they aren't as powerful to retain their old selves. In essence, the human host would have had to go through the same ordeal we did."

Before I knew it, I was on my feet. I knew of one who fit the criteria perfectly.


	9. Solitude

**IX. Solitude**

Needless to say, the turbulent drama of the Green household wasn't something to underestimate. As I complied to Matthew's wishes of getting out more by hanging out with Jack, I had reason to believe the home was slightly less awkward without me around. I made it clear that he could attend to his sick wife without glancing over his shoulder to make sure I kept my distance, but he never once said a word of gratitude.

Perhaps that was why, when I came back late from yet another outing, I didn't know how to react when Charles was simply hovering at the door waiting for me. When he told me that his father had had a heart attack, I didn't know what I was supposed to say.

More than anything, the stress must have finished him off. When I entered the home to see him there on the couch, with one arm draped across his stomach and head to one side, the worry lines ceased to exist. Perhaps at last, he was at peace. I hadn't realised just how taut his strings were, and it was only then I started to truly understand him. It had been just as difficult for him too, to lose a family member that wasn't his only to be shunned by his wife and son as a result.

That neglect was infinitely worse than Eon taking off without a decent goodbye.

The next time I met up with the culprit brother, I kept quiet about how I had helped bury his stepfather. I also kept all my personal issues at home, eager to simply enjoy myself and set myself a new threshold and target.

Jack was in a good mood, despite Joker's overbearing presence as we played our slow game of chess. As each minute ticked away, he continued to try Joker in a good attempt to spend as much time with me.

I knew instantly that the two didn't get along, so I made sure that the effort was worth his while. We talked munny, and it was only after all those meetings that Jack finally asked why I came to the casino.

"Where are you planning to go?" he asked once I told him that I needed out.

"Someplace a little less dull." I didn't mean to offend him or the world he knew nothing of. I had tasted freedom, and it was more than this. "It was tolerable when I got here, but now it's bringing me closer to madness by the day. Why is it always so dark all the time? Why are the people here so…ordinary? I want to see other places – who knows how many worlds are out there, waiting to be discovered."

"Worlds?" Jack repeated with a tone of amusement. "It's Traverse Town all the way down the districts, and not much else."

I grinned slyly. Apparently his sheltered lifestyle kept him away of the local news and commotion further down the districts. I leaned across the table, raising my wineglass in the space between us. "I mean it. There are other places beyond this one, worlds where there's daylight and _interesting_ people. I used to live in a place called Radiant Garden, but it was devoured by its own darkness."

Jack was perturbed; there was no questioning it. "You're not from around here?"

I rolled my eyes. It was amazing how for someone so observant, he hadn't realised that. "Pink hair isn't common here, is it? It was considered normal in Radiant Garden. It was rife with colour. Not any more, of course."

"Why's that?" he asked next, in search of a concrete explanation.

Unfortunately, I wasn't in a position to say. I shrugged lightly. "No one knows. Just that it went black, and only a handful of civilians escaped in a machine called a Gummi Ship. The ship ended up here, and you can imagine my excitement of stepping onto a brand new world." I took my first swig of the wine he had poured for me, and spat it back out just as quickly. "How can you drink this stuff?" I made no effort to be courteous.

Jack gave a light laugh. "Wine is the blood of a noble man. Show it some respect." He demonstrated, but it didn't make it any better.

I wrinkled my nose in distaste as I set the glass down. "Can't say it's really my sort of thing." As I pushed the glass away to prevent myself drinking it in a moment of madness, I really did start to think of it as blood. I disliked how inappropriately Jack was laughing now, finding my face to be priceless, but it was all in good jest.

I didn't join in, and Jack caught on quickly. "So what are you doing with yourself now?"

"It wasn't that long ago that I grew tired of the mundane lifestyle. I had that thrill, and now I want nothing more than to explore. There's absolutely nothing here that will keep me away from my goal, which is to get a Gummi Ship of my own and travel."

Jack shook his head, taking another leisurely sip. "The whole concept sounds ludicrous."

"True," I agreed through a laugh, "but I wasn't the only one rescued from Radiant Garden. If you were in town some months ago, you would have seen us land or at least heard of it. People spoke of it for weeks."

"I must have been very busy," he said nonchalantly. His job was the type to completely overtake his life, and it was evident he had no clue whatsoever of what happened beyond the casino.

"It was hard settling in, but my employer was nice enough to take me on. He said that he needed help in the shop, and that he wouldn't turn down an extra pair of hands."

"Yet the wages clearly aren't satisfying if you're here so often," he said carefully, picking apart the layers of my life with ease. Now was as good a time as anything.

"Yeah, Charles said business was bad, and that my pay would be better if I worked elsewhere. But no one else wanted help, so I had no choice in the end."

I knew the instant I dropped the bomb, no matter of experience and training could mask Jack's thirst for knowledge. Like how he had laughed at my naivety in drinking, I had the pleasure of breaking the tycoon who was otherwise on top of his game. I had been meeting up with him all this time to say that one thing: I was his connection to the outside world. The question of why we were brought together was still unanswered, but there didn't need to be one.

Despite all that, completely against my predictions, he didn't approach me again.

**-x-**

District Five of Traverse Town had changed considerably. It was an area I hadn't ventured into in a long time, and when I took in the sights, I could see what had become of it. As I willed my dark corridor to stretch towards the Silver Lynx, it struggled to pinpoint a firm location. That alone should have been my biggest clue.

Just as Luxord had said, he had no qualms about destroying the casino. What used to be a towering glory of purple and green was now a few block of houses, too new compared to the ones that surrounded them. There was no indication that such a place had existed, and the inheritance was simply gone without a trace. I didn't know at what point Luxord had thrown everything away, but for these buildings to have been constructed, I would have guessed at least a few years. What came off as bizarre was that I didn't get the impression that Luxord had been part of the Organisation for more than one year.

I couldn't very well ask him without breaking my silent streak, but it interested me all the same.

The narrow pavements were exactly as I recalled them to be, albeit without the music, with all those bends that would take me to the First District where Charles' shop and home was. I had no inclination to catch up with him though – that wasn't why I was here. I couldn't delve into the past when there were others who needed my help.

I stopped in my tracks at District Three, where a wondrous fountain was set in the square with a bordered promenade. This was one of the more well-developed areas of Traverse Town, with smaller alleyways that branched off the central square. In its beauty, I still recall the fierce battle that ensued here not too long ago. The tiles were devoid of his noble blood, and as I crossed the square, I had the uncanny feeling he was still around.

Although he had sacrificed himself for the greater good, he still roamed these parts, I was sure of it. He was still watching over his peers and protecting his friends from the shadows.

"Vincent, are you here?"

My voice was choked, nervous even. He knew more about salvation than anyone – if anyone knew about saving others, it was him. It was only through him that I truly felt guilty of what I defined as my life. Where others had failed, he had severed the chain that had found its way round my soul.

A gust of wind blew past me, and I turned round just in time.

Vincent's Nobody was nothing like the monstrosity that was his Heartless. For starters, the white figure was distinctively feminine with a peculiar helmet that completely hid her eyes from view. Her arms were thin, her dress so long that it was hard to tell if she had legs at all, and she had bony hands that lacked any form of flesh.

I couldn't resist a smile. "At last we meet. Because of me, there is no place for you to return to. For that, there is nothing I can say to make that better."

The Nobody just continued to hover centimetres above the floor, but even so she wasn't much taller than me. She didn't appear to be listening, but I knew that she wasn't as mindless as the Heartless or even the Dusks. Her arms hung at her sides limply, the tresses that flowed from her helmet equally lazy in their movement.

"I hope to repent. I know of a few souls that need to be saved from an order known as the Organisation. Although all is lost for you, would you lend your strength and help me to save those who can still be saved?" I wasn't expecting a verbal answer – just something slight to go by, but she did nothing.

Unlike with Luxord or Jack, who kept the banter going with questions and obscure suggestions, this Nobody was far from easy to read.

Her skeletal hand raised very slightly. I didn't know what she was going to do, but I knew what was missing from this picture. I raised my own hand and with the usual burst of cherry blossoms, Graceful Dahlia appeared on command. Instead of attacking her, like what most would do when faced with such a fearsome creature, I loosened my grip of the scythe and offered it to her with both hands. "Take it – I can make another."

I was thinking a lot of things then. Would she accept it? If she did, would she then swipe me down?

But nothing like that happened; she shook her head slowly. She raised a frail finger at me. Ghostly in her movements, it was surreal just watching her.

I quirked an eyebrow. How was I to know what she was after? Her finger didn't waver, pointed directly at my head but at the same time not. Neither of us made any effort to make ourselves clearer, but I had to be the one to walk the extra mile. I didn't take my eyes off her as I let Graceful Dahlia fade and made to pull a few strands of hair out instead.

And as I held them out as an offering, her dainty hand reached down towards mine. There was the briefest touch of how cold she was as she willed the strands to disappear in a swirl of petals. She slowly drew to her full height, and as her stronger arm found its way to one side, she summoned a scythe, identical to the last intricate detail to mine.

Luxord had said that I needed a strong starting point for a desirable Nobody. What could possibly be better than Death herself?


	10. Fate

**X. Fate**

On the day of Jack's 21st birthday, everything between us was over. Whether it was because his dad insisted on him making it public or me knowingly going to that momentous party, the fault was evenly distributed.

The crowd was busier than usual at the Silver Lynx, yet it was surprising how the regulars could still concentrate. I could have easily copied them and hid behind the fun and games, sparing me the pain of severing the thin tie between me and him, but I really couldn't. As a regular who was here most days, how could I overlook the single thing that mattered?

"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. Allow me to thank each and every one of you for joining me on this day." Where I was standing, I couldn't see Jack at all. I didn't get the impression he was used to speaking to a crowd – if anything, he liked personal contact and pushing them to their own personal limits. Public speaking, not to mention motivational speeches, required a completely different skill set.

People shuffled in my peripheral vision whilst others sipped their champagne. "The Silver Lynx has been standing strong since the time of my great grandfather. At the precipice of good fortune for all, he established this very casino in the midst of a financial crisis."

I was certain that the guests were hardly interested in its makings, but it was almost a given in a ceremony like this. The way Jack's voice reverberated as he continued to talk wasn't just because it had been amplified – in more ways than one, he was afraid. He spoke of the founder, who went through several bodyguards to challenge the many who were against the casino. He spoke of his grandfather, who became deaf and incapacitated yet it didn't slow him down for almost two decades.

Then there was his father. It was almost a given King Ludor was there to hear every word, and Jack made sure to keep gilding the lily. He elaborated on how King Ludor single-handedly sealed more business deals than his ancestors put together, how he had more influence than anyone dared to imagine as a result of it. Where the previous owners focused on maintenance, he focused on prosperity.

Where Jack continued to reveal his intentions to match his fathers, he sounded so confident I knew he was grinning all the while. The guests nodded in approval next to me, the words and delivery washing over them in an inspirational wave as they complacently listened to every word of an otherwise long speech.

Where Jack was clearly to be a leader of formidable influence, I knew what was going through his head. As he had gone through his ancestors, he had doubts he would do any better, or even a decent job. And if he was to be left alone, allowing those thoughts to plague him, he would surely fail his chosen path. The way he came to me, perhaps in a bid to get away from the pressure, I knew he was only delaying the inevitable.

And, from every conversation we had, I knew that he would rather tear the casino to the ground than be expected to lead the townsfolk to despair.

I couldn't let him throw his life of fortune away. I wasn't there to listen to his real problems, where he had chosen to keep it all to himself despite all those encounters we had. Now that he made it public, I too could make my opinions known about the matter. Like what I had told him in our last meeting, he was aware I was affiliated with Charles, and if necessary I would work it to my advantage.

I knew that like my father, Jack deeply cared about his followers. But from the number of times he took interest in me, what the world was beyond the casino and the deceit, I had known for a long time he was not cut out to be the next King Ludor. Rather, not yet.

I turned on my heel, although he still hadn't finished his speech. If he was to take that first step forward, I knew what had to be done.

**-x-**

I didn't need to do a whole lot to make Vincent's Nobody stronger – apparently she had built up her strength already in Traverse Town to the point the Dusk numbers were few there. With a bit of incentive, I managed to persuade her to leave her familiar surroundings and led her to the World That Never Was. The town below, although similar to Traverse Town, was teeming with Dusks and an ideal place for her to grow more powerful. It was ultimately Xemnas' dumping ground of failures – where he missed out, I was certain she and I would flourish.

I didn't mention any of my ripening plans to Luxord; however the number of times I went out after missions, he knew that I was definitely trying something.

The Organisation was tarnished, tainted even. Anything that Xemnas had poisoned with his heavy words was contaminated, and more exposure meant more mindless thoughts and lack of individuality.

That was why, when Number XII was introduced, I knew I had to get her before she too fell into that pit of uniformity.

Larxene looked up from her knives mulishly as I joined her on the settee. It was calming to be sat with her now rather than leering down from the seats in the Round Room, taking in the flash of danger in her green eyes that were otherwise hidden under long eyelashes. She too was dressed in the Organisation coat, covering the entirety of her petite physique. Her hairstyle was unusual too, with two strands that curved round like the horns of a demon. "Don't you have work to do?"

I raised my chin slightly. "I wouldn't go so far as to say my work is important," I chose to say. It was a standard recon mission, but it was just another way for Xemnas to keep our minds from his motives. He had told us the Keyblade wielder could secure our hearts and make us like everyone else; this I had never believed the moment he said it.

Larxene would do well to do the same. She willed her knives to disappear in a small blast of sparks, much to my dismay. "I don't think mine is either."

I laughed softly. "Why is that?"

She jerked her head towards Saïx. Much like he had always been, he was an intimidating character with the expression and clipboard to match, but Larxene wasn't bothered by that. "He's set me up to go with Demyx. Being my first mission and all, I thought I'd be assigned to someone a bit higher up."

First missions were always the most important. I recalled my own fondly, where Lexaeus and I engaged in Heartless control in Halloween Town. Even then I knew that Lexaeus wasn't the talkative type, but the way he forced his words out almost gave away that there was an ulterior motive behind it all. Thankfully he had gone through about three sentences before he got to the point.

How did your Somebody fall to the Darkness?

It was the biggest question that Xemnas was still trying to understand – because we lost ourselves through our means alone, he needed our cooperation to satisfy his curiosity.

With Demyx mentoring Larxene, however, they would probably both drive each other mad in the process.

"You'll come to find that not many put Demyx as their first choice," I said lightly. Although he was the first to accomplish the self-inflicted journey to be a Nobody and was actually highly dangerous, he made sure his outward appearance didn't match. He was chirpy and so laidback he had fallen over a long time ago. He was unique, but when even he didn't think so, no one else could see that.

Larxene gave a soft smile. "Did I ruin things?"

"It's not that." I ran a hand through my hair thoughtfully. "It's just the way things are right now. Everyone higher up has done their share, so it's only through process of elimination that Demyx is your partner today." I didn't add the fact Xemnas and Saïx were never assigned mentoring duty, and Vexen was either too busy poking things in his lab or too moody to partake in the tradition himself.

"So everyone takes it in turns to be first babysitter? That's reassuring," Larxene uttered vehemently. She made to cross one leg over the other and started to wave her foot impatiently.

If the Organisation ever became that big, I thought. "They're going to try and find out about your Somebody life. It acts as a ceremony of sorts."

She turned her head round quickly, and her fast-becoming-normal look of scorn was completely gone. Her eyes, although large anyway, were wide and beautiful. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she came up with the best thing to say. "Wow, they really know how to get under your skin, don't they?"

As she rearranged her expression into something less of concern, there was something to suggest that somewhere in the past, she had grown used to the lies.

"If it helps, would you mind telling me?" There weren't a lot of strong girls around, much less anyone who had gone through so much pain and clamber out of the darkness despite it. From all my trips around, they were either holding onto their daddy's hand or their husband's. If Larxene had come from anywhere I had travelled to, I couldn't see it as anywhere but Tortuga.

She laughed callously, a screech that made Saïx look up from his clipboard in alarm. "How about no?"

I wasn't insulted; far from it. "If your past is worth holding onto, or burying even, create your own history. No one here really has to know, do they?"


	11. Secrecy

**XI. Secrecy**

Jack was never going to listen to me, but that didn't stop me from trying. I set him to one side, told him that he should take over the casino as well revealing the fact I was already aware of his status even before the party. It made things easier for him to make sense of, not to mention my views would be more plausible than some betrayed fool whose emotions would cloud any rational and credible judgment.

I also had to tell him that Charles had given him the go-ahead, although in actuality he had no idea whatsoever I went to the Silver Lynx at all. Even that wasn't quite enough, but it had an effect all the same. Jack never gave me a solid response, choosing to give me a vague reply before leaving so he could think alone. Sitting on the fence was a hard place to be – there wasn't time to think, and death waited for no one.

Much like he had done to me, I chose not to approach him as I obtained the last of Cid's payment and a little more. Mercifully, Cid hadn't bumped up the price, and he handed over the keys to my Gummi Ship without a word on how I afforded it. He spent a full two hours telling me how to pilot it as well as its maintenance and what waited in the space between the worlds. He had apparently taken my ship out for a few test drives, but so long as it worked I didn't care.

"I guess this is goodbye then," Charles said as he shut the register.

I waited until the bell rang to signal the customer's exit before replying. "I won't be leaving for a few days, but I think I'm set."

Charles' upper lip twisted as he did his best to smile. He had never been the same since Matthew passed away, but he was more relaxed and had grown a bit since that time I met him outside the store, all flustered with the responsibility. Perhaps with his dad gone, he knew he had to get on. He did well to look after his mother and keep the business going, and that was more than enough to earn my respect.

"Will you still be around if I return?" I didn't like making empty promises, especially when Charles was the sort to remember it, but I did get the impression that the ghost of his dad was overjoyed about me finally leaving.

Charles shrugged. "It would be tough to keep the shop running on my own, but that just means I have to try twice as hard." He grinned sheepishly as he glanced over his shoulder. Since his dad died, Charles had decided to take his mum into the shop as well so he could keep an eye on her. Although her back was to us, we both knew why she was looking out the window. "My mum's hospital appointments aren't exactly cheap though, so if someone does want this place for the right price, I wouldn't mind letting it go."

There had to be something with these brothers – they were certainly happy enough to throw away their lives. "You don't want to employ someone else?"

And for the first time since buying my Gummi Ship, I realised the damage I was causing. "Nah, I think it'd be hard to top you." Charles had to be lying; he had to be. Anyone could top a delinquent who had three hour lunch breaks and spent most of the evenings out.

I bit down on my lip, looking away hastily. I couldn't do this anymore – it was the least I could do for him. "Charles, there's probably something I should mention," I blurted out as I went to lean against the counter. He had unintentionally pulled the guilt card; he really was Jack's brother.

My employer looked down slightly as he began to think the worst. "Did you steal the munny for the Gummi Ship?"

"What?" I said a bit too incredulously before I readjusted my expression to be less intimidating. "No, I didn't. But it is about that – I told you before that I'd go out for long walks. The truth is I go to the Silver Lynx."

In that instance, I could see the pieces in Charles' head fall into place. It was impossible for him not to wonder where I went, often in the rain and drier than what I ought to be. But like Jack, he would rather wait for me to explain rather than pry. "I should have known," he said simply, and he crossed the room in a desperate bid to sit down.

I joined him on the opposite sofa before I went into more detail. It was probably a good decision for him to sit down. "I earned the munny for the ship through skill, but I didn't do it alone. I met up with your brother."

Charles' response could have been two things: overexcitement or anger. Although he hadn't gushed on about Eon for some time, I was still aware he deeply missed him. Yet as Charles' eyes narrowed considerably, I could at least eliminate overexcitement. "Did you mention anything about us?"

I shook my head. "I thought I should leave it to you. This family feud, or whatever this is, has gone on long enough." I averted my gaze slightly. I couldn't act as the secret middleman any more. "You know where he is – you both need to settle this once and for all. If you wanted him home so badly, you would have known he wasn't going to come of his own accord."

Charles didn't say anything in reply, but he knew I was right. Why _had_ he delayed it all those years when there were so many opportunities to find out for himself? Why had he made himself miserable, hoping and failing to see him again when he was a just few districts down, maybe even thinking the same thing?

"Go to him."

I knew Jack wouldn't accept coming home, not after what I had in store for him, but it was more for Charles' sake. Charles would finally reach closure in knowing his brother was long gone. There was nothing I could do for him now – his brother was already dead and Jack too would realise that.

**-x-**

Much like Luxord had done to bribe the start of our friendship, I had done the exact same thing to Larxene. When she returned from her mission with Demyx, she didn't hesitate to chase me down.

"Fine, what's your game?" Her tone was brash, and that was enough to say that she had put my advice to good use.

I looked away from the ornament of the Nobody sign. I was bemused how little attention she paid to the Altar of Naught, keeping her eyes fixed on me as she demanded my price. I gave a light shrug. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes narrowed considerably. She certainly was savage, true to her title. "Out with it. Why did you tell me to lie?"

"I didn't force you," I said bluntly. I don't think I did anyway – it was hard to recall my exact words or how I said them. "What you told Demyx is entirely your affair, not mine."

Apparently that was the wrong answer. She tossed her head in contempt, her long horns following as she did so. Her thin eyebrows were knitted tightly as she continued to huff, but it wasn't long until her face softened somewhat as she exhaled through her nose. "What do you want from me then – undying gratitude?"

Her past must have really been something, for her to constantly worry and act tough. If she wasn't so aggressive, she really was a thing of beauty.

I felt the ends of my lips tug. "That pent-up anger won't lead to anything good. If you give in to transient hate, that doesn't make you strong. Does it bother you that you were weak to succumb to the darkness…or are you furious that you managed to survive?" I blinked slowly, and so did she.

A weak breeze made our coats swirl and Larxene's tresses bounce. She looked down slightly towards the base of the ornament. "It's strange to say, however I feel that having no heart gives me strength." Her voice was level for once, and that in itself was a miracle. I couldn't possibly begin to understand her, not unless she opened up to me, but I wanted to all the same.

"You don't want a heart? For what reason did you join the Organisation?" I asked. It was a valid question – if she was against the very thesis of the Organisation, that worked out well for me. I either wanted to destroy it or overthrow it, and if her interests didn't match theirs, it didn't clash with mine.

She didn't look at me, and I'd rather not push my luck.

"A story for another day?"

But as she turned to face me, I realised that she wasn't going to back down. Not for the second time today. "If I went about…that life as I am now, nothing would have stopped me. I don't want the emotions to resurface, but I remember just how much she was hurting. No matter how much I snap and bite, nothing can change the fact that all I think about is her and her stupid life."

Her expression grew fierce again, but the way I saw it now was that it was her only way to communicate. In a world of cruelty, this was how she had decided to separate herself from her Somebody, whom she was already referring to in third person. Unlike anyone I had ever seen, it was unlikely she had experienced any form of true kindness. She used her wrath so she wouldn't allow herself to trust others.

"My only memories are that of humiliation and pain and fear. Why would anyone want their heart back for such meaningless burdens?"

She stopped rambling as she was forced to take that step forwards. As I held onto her in a reassuring embrace, although I didn't have the heart to care, I knew a sheep I could save when I saw one. I could feel her breath against my chest, but there wasn't the rush of heat or the quickened heartbeat that asymmetrically told us the contact meant something. It was just a hug, but it didn't take her long to grip my front.

Anger wouldn't get her anywhere. But I'd be there to guide her on the right path.


	12. Integrity

**XII. Integrity**

I managed to persuade Charles that same day not to approach him until after I had gone. I most certainly didn't want to be there to distract either party, but more than anything I wanted to make sure to take measures so Eon would even see his brother.

Although Sarah Green was completely unaware of the entire world around her, and perhaps for the better, she had become a little more withdrawn with each passing day her husband wasn't there to support her. Her medication was on the rise, and the finance behind it also.

When I had opened the drawer to her bedside table where her prescription box was, I saw for myself just how much medication she was taking. Each compartment corresponded with a day and time, where pills of all shapes and sizes had their own adverse effects. The anti-depressants and the iron tablets were particularly recognisable, but I didn't choose either of them.

As I tore out the wrapping for two night slots, slipping two small pills into a waiting handkerchief, I could only think of the irony. It wasn't recommended to use other people's prescriptions, which were tailor-made to their diet and lifestyle, but I needed them.

I had spent the rest of the day making preparations. Charles had probably interpreted 'preparations' as 'stocking up for my travels'.

I broke into a jog down the dark pavement of District Five, where not even the lights in the houses could guide me to the way home. My footsteps resounded in the enclosed space, but people were too busy sleeping to notice. I hadn't bought rope off Cid in case of an emergency. I definitely didn't buy bleach to clean the Gummi Ship with.

No, that was the night I killed King Ludor.

It had almost been too easy to sneak into the house and slip the sleeping pill into his nightcap even before the maid brought it up to him (by crushing it and disguising it as sugar, naturally). Sarah's dose was strong, and it was almost poetic how she finally had the last laugh as the King suffered for stealing her son.

I winced as I felt a sharp pang on my shoulder. I had been wearing my thick leather jacket just in case, and it was just as well. Joker was my biggest obstacle, and that wasn't for show. There were several shallow tears across it, where I could still hear the whizz of those metal edged cards I had never put in my calculations (as I hadn't seen them before tonight).

And as I rubbed at my bruised diaphragm, where he had placed his knee so well in a disadvantaged position he knew it would shorten my breath temporarily. A trained bodyguard who had been serving the family for more than thirty years…The only way I could have hoped to win was to count on his skill to be rusty.

"It would have been easier to kill him," I murmured aggressively, and if anyone else was on the streets at the time, they would have been disturbed.

Never had I been so nervous, but despite the odds I had somehow pulled through.

I threw off my gloves, laden with the phlegm of King Ludor and bleach. They were of no use to me now, and it was highly unlikely they could be used for much else. I tossed them in the gutter before rubbing my hands against my sides – I had been in this dull world long enough. Much like the foetus patiently waiting to draw its first inhale of air, I had been in stasis as I too delayed, not averted, the destined path of destruction. Jack had prolonged it for all these months, and now that was finally gone, I could return the favour.

The shrill hiss of burning flesh still lingered at the back of my brain as I saw the first bricks of Charles' house poke into view. Yes…I couldn't have killed Joker because that would mean Jack would be alone. Unlike Charles, Jack had yet to see the world he knew crumble before him and be expected to still be standing. In many ways I trusted him, but I couldn't have him face it alone.

By rendering the bodyguard blind and forcing the second sleeping pill down his throat only after he knew I had killed his beloved leader, it was only through such an experience that he and Jack would look eye-to-eye.

Before I opened the front door to get some shut-eye with what little of the night remained, I gave a knowing smirk as I looked over my shoulder towards District Five. By killing the King, the heir had no choice but to ascend the throne. He couldn't afford to think of morals; by pushing him off the fence of deliberation, he had no choice but to keep walking.

This was my final gift to you, Jack. Look forwards and rejoice.

**-x-**

Castle Oblivion was a mysterious world. There was no one there, save for the howling winds that poured from the lone castle, yet for the third time, I had been pulled towards this castle without setting it as my destination.

Those green towers continued to mock me as the beginnings of a thunderstorm clustered around it. It was ghastly in a way, with its bronze architecture and lopsided appearance; however that didn't alter the fact it was in many ways more powerful and moving than anything I had ever seen.

The first time I came here, I had become a Nobody. The second time, I became part of the Organisation.

The third time…I had yet to discover.

I sighed to myself as I made the dark corridor disappear behind me. Why I had such a strong connection with the place was beyond me. Larxene back at headquarters would surely be tapping her foot in annoyance, waiting for me, yet the calling of Castle Oblivion had to mean something.

As I sauntered up the path towards the front door, the structure continuing to leer over me with each footfall, there was a numb sensation at the back of my head that told me to keep going. Even as the fierce flashes of lightning and claps became fiercer as I approached, it did nothing to stop me from grabbing that handle and walking straight in.

In contrast to the exterior, the reception was surprisingly organised. Although stark white and hard on the eyes, it was almost impressive how homely it looked. Pillars lined the edge of the walls, not in any way supporting the framework but made it charming all the same. There was a door that complemented the entrance on the other side of the room, where a few small steps led up to it.

It was on those steps I saw her – a young girl in her early teens seemingly absorbed in looking at her hands. Her dress, like the room, was light and the only bit of colour she had to her was the blonde locks that flowed down her right side.

She looked up at me with wide eyes. It was unlikely she ever had visitors.

I gave a small smile as I closed the door behind me. Based on the scarcity of the world and how barren the room was, that raised a lot of questions about her existence. "Sorry to intrude. I'm Marluxia. What's your name?"

She looked away hastily, apparently eager to examine her palms again. The way she curled herself up was almost exactly how Charles' mother was like to start off with, I recalled. A broken slate, who couldn't find the strength or motivation to pick up the pieces. "I think it's…Naminé."

Her voice was soft, and I was only able to pick up on it because the room was otherwise silent. The thunderstorm had either died down just as quickly as it picked up or the interior was completely separate from the outside world – this castle was getting interesting.

"As in the waves of the ocean?"

"I guess," she replied as she gradually got onto her feet. "I remember the ocean."

Remember the ocean…So she really was taken here. Much like how I was born in this world, she too had lost her heart along the way and ended up in a location between light and dark. Whatever misfortune had befallen her, it was certainly clear how she could stay here and not get bored, hungry or tired. Merely waiting for something to happen.

It was a relief I found her – if Xemnas had gotten wind of her, he would dearly have loved to drape that Organisation coat on those tiny shoulders.

I tossed my head slightly as a few strands of pink fell out of place. "You're in a fortunate position, Naminé. I know how I can take you back to the ocean if that is what you desire." Her face lit up very slightly, but it didn't quite initiate the same spark in her eyes. "The way you are now, you have access to a hidden power you didn't have before. Do you know what that is?"

Her expression returned to normal, which was a downcast look of apparent misery and concern. "You're troubled."

"What?" How else was I meant to reply – what could she know about me?

Her toes wiggled in her sandals as she struggled to think. Now that I thought about it, her attire matched a world that catered for abundant sunlight and water. "Your memories tell me that you thrive on helping others. By helping others, you can dismiss how no one helped you in the past. You act for justice and speak of freedom, and you make it your place to save others." Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Because…you don't have faith in anyone but yourself."

I was mildly impressed with how accurate she was, but even more so with what she had revealed about herself. "You read memories then?"

She gave a cute smile before nodding. "I can also erase or alter them."

She wasn't implying anything, but that smile was almost sympathetic. As if she wanted to say she could fix me, somehow change the way I was wired. I had always known I was broken – I had just grown so used to how I worked I wouldn't want it any other way.

"Then you would also know that my method to help others has a good success rate." I didn't need to list them out, just how many people I had promised to save and did; she already knew. I stooped down to her level, resting a hand on her shoulder. She didn't shy away from the contact, but she didn't look up all the same. Perhaps my memories were a bit much for her, and I couldn't blame her. "Will you help me save the others?"

And as she filtered through my more recent history as a Nobody, my thoughts and opinions washed over her like the ocean she so longed to see. She too saw the Organisation as a ruse, a place of damnation that demanded salvation. A blank slate, now fouled with a mind like mine, would be difficult even for Xemnas to eradicate.

"Yes."


	13. Complexity

**XIII. Complexity**

Thanks to Cid's prior instructions and the manual set in the drawer (which was filled with tiny writing and doodles to confirm Leon and Yuffie had co-written it), piloting the Gummi Ship was no problem. It was overwhelming with all the controls, but that was all it was. After several journeys, it was only natural for it to become less of a thrill.

Every world that I visited after Traverse Town was different in its own way, yet I noticed as I passed through each one, my interest and patience drew a little shorter.

The world I came to first was a place so unusual that the ship had to land on auto-pilot. I was alarmed even before I had landed, and with the ship's levers and small buttons, there was no way I could do anything without breaking something else. Somehow, the world wasn't good enough for humans and I had assumed the shape of a large cat – the tail took most of the landing to get used to. That trip alone was enough to make my future visits to other worlds so universal and ordinary.

Not only that, the Pride Lands was also the only place that provided a man, or lion, that was worth investing in: Scar. Much like Jack, he was sly and dangerously smart. So smart he didn't feel the need to lie or be dishonest with me, just outright ambitious, because he knew I was in.

Although he was dark with the tussled mane and roguish features to match, my puma form must have appealed to him. As he continued to talk lightly of his brother, King of the Pride Lands, and how desperately he wanted to overthrow him, there was little more I needed to know. By cutting the chase, we both benefitted.

I wasn't directly responsible for Mufasa's death – Scar wanted that pleasure. I simply used my nature as a predator to coerce some unsuspecting wildebeests to run from one end of the canyon to the other.

The cub Mufasa left behind was better off without his father. The world was cruel, and growing up oblivious to that fact was foolish. Not only had I granted Scar's wish to become King (which I soon grew tired of as his plans no longer involved me), I had also made Simba a worthy leader that one day everyone at Pride Rock would respect and admire.

Since then, nothing else really met the bar. I would venture out to worlds, select the most accommodating people and given time, I would eliminate the one I deemed more worthy dead than alive before taking off. It was a cruel circle, taking a life so others could thrive, but it was only through death that one could truly evolve. It was only through someone else that one could become better.

Eventually I skipped the first phase altogether and simply observed. I didn't need to speak to Lady Tremaine to know her step-daughter was a brat. Young, rude and spoilt, as she tugged on Daddy's arm for him to lift her off her feet before even saying hello to the other relatives.

I spared the good lady the trouble and slit his throat on his way home from work, so that doe-eyed child would stand on her own two feet.

Places like Halloween Town I was out of in less than a week – everyone there was either unrelated to one another or already dead. Others like Port Royal and Agrabah were a little more enticing, where nearly everyone's life was short anyway.

Needless to say, as I ventured from place to place, without really belonging anywhere and leaving my footprints in the sand, I became well-adjusted to not expect too much of my next destination. I existed as a reaper, drifting from world to world and leaving behind a little more of my humanity as I did. I grew weary of the woeful tales of many, how insignificant and pathetic they were without my intervention. I had given up listening at all, because all their cries were the same. With my bold but ultimately fake whims to travel and take in all the culture and the silly little people, I only wanted to help others to keep myself occupied, perhaps even sane after all these years.

When the Gummi Ship landed on a barren world, I was already aware I was at the end of the line. The green tops of the castle warned me to back off, the winding path towards its front door precarious and weathered from the strong gales. The doors were shut, as were the windows and seemingly the world as well. I could have got out the ship to look for life, but I didn't need to explore to know there wasn't another soul here. No soul to reap and no soul to save.

I had simply wanted to breathe the new air and feel my feet on untouched soil. The winds made my shirt ruffle and my hair sway wildly, adding to the many tangles that were already there. There was nothing quite like the sweet aroma of darkness and distant greenery.

And just then, I knew I had outstayed my welcome. By reaching the end of the line, the only place I could really go was home. That was what Castle Oblivion told me as I took the waiting corridor of darkness to where it all started.

**-x-**

"I don't do children."

That was the response I got from Larxene as soon as I started to explain my lateness with Naminé. Her arms were already folded, her glare so narrow and stern she made it evident that she wasn't going to budge.

"I'm not asking anything of you," I said lightly. "I was merely giving you a stroke of decency, so that the anger doesn't consume you. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do."

She frowned somewhat before finding some truth in my words. That wasn't enough for her to drop her guard completely though. "No, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Who is she then?"

There was a yell from across the room in good-natured disappointment, and as I looked across the room towards the source, it was clear what the commotion was about. It was always about this time that someone or another was playing poker; today it was fun-loving Demyx, Axel and Xigbar. I made sure to look away in good time before Luxord, the dealer, tried to reel me in.

I lowered my voice somewhat, although the game was enough to disguise our conversation from the players and Saïx. "She's the Nobody that Xemnas can't touch."

Larxene did nothing to show she was impressed. "Because you got to her first?"

"Correct," I enthused, running a hand through my hair without thinking. "If the Keyblade wielder is all Xemnas needs to keep this flock hurtling to their predestined doom, then all we need to do is take him for ourselves. Naminé has the ability to manipulate memories at will, and on the right battlefield we can use that to our advantage. With her talent and our resolve, I think that we can succeed."

"Honestly?"

I laughed lightly at her sceptical response. "Definitely. I'll need to fine-tune the details; however, our time to fight back is nigh."

Even as I said the good news, Larxene couldn't relish in it as well as I could. Although she hadn't seen Naminé for herself, who was almost holy in appearance and potential, it was obvious how much she despised her already. Given the opportunity, I was sure that she would use another way if it meant she didn't have to involve herself with Naminé at all.

Unfortunately, I needed them both on my side. I took a step closer to her as I leaned towards her right ear. "She also mentioned she can erase and rewrite memories. If you let her in, what would she do for you?"

And in that moment, I heard the small exhale of air that suggested surprise or thought. I was close enough to see her lashes, and as I brought a gloved hand towards her chin to have her look at me, that ire she emanated really wasn't that intimidating at all. Like the flower, her thorns weren't dangerous so long as one knew how to handle them.

"Is this a promise or blackmail?" she asked next. She was a tough one to break.

"Depends how you make it," I replied as I let a smile play on my lips. I had genuinely wanted to help rid her of her memories, if it would avert her destructive path. The way she constantly thought the worst, how she misinterpreted actions of kindness as deceit and a gesture to be wary of. The way she let her ire shape her into something twisted, so she wouldn't have to live through the pain again. "However, I can assure you blackmail was never on my agenda."

She looked away slightly, and I interpreted that as a sign that she didn't want me touching her. I complied as I let my arm fall to my side again. "I know every bit of anguish she was going through. More than anything I want to forget…but by doing that I'm also admitting to myself that that really was my past." She unfolded her arms, and there was almost a dramatic change of atmosphere as she did so.

Larxene ignored the racket at the other side of the room, and I found it surprisingly easy to black it out too. As we saw each other for who we were, complex beyond words, we began to understand one another. We both came from worlds of chaos, developed in different surroundings yet we complimented each other with little effort.

"The way I see it, she teaches me what lies beyond, constantly warning me of what awaits so I won't make that mistake."

I nodded slowly. She really was an admirable Nobody, more than the fools playing poker without a care for why they were fighting. Just plodding through each day exactly like our leader wanted them to, never thinking of the cage that encircled them.

"To save the others, you would have to face one of the many ordeals she warned you of. It won't be easy, but I will be there to help you through all the way." I maintained strong eye contact with Larxene as I continued to convince her. She had to overcome her fears, stare at it in the face if that meant she could develop herself with emotions beyond rage. "Can you do it?"

She laughed gleefully, neither of contempt nor otherwise. Her mask shattered instantly, leaving behind perhaps a ghost of who she was before she became battered and bruised. Although she had rejected what Naminé could do for her, I had to wonder if erasing her memories would make expressions like this last.

"You say that so confidently. Why do you see it as your duty to help strangers so much?"

I didn't feel it my place to answer as I summoned a dark corridor to the Altar of Naught, as usual. The same way Larxene had her secrets about her life, I wanted to hold onto the few that made me who I was. I chose not to confide in Larxene because there was no merit for it.

Father said my job was to listen and forgive, liberate the people through gentle encouragement and sound guidance. Yet as he disproved each and every one of his teachings, demanding explanations for my insolence and striking me when he was on edge, I had failed to see how the celestial beings made things just. Where I would ask for forgiveness, he wouldn't nod and purge me of my guilt – he made me wallow in it and made it resurface time and time again in public. When I had asked for knowledge beyond the beliefs and the rites of passage, of human nature and evolution, he said there was nothing more to know.

As Naminé said, I saw it my place to help others because when I needed it most, the world pretended it saw no such thing.


	14. Motive

**XIV. Motive**

As I let that long, dark corridor stretch for Traverse Town, I didn't have a clue what I would do once I got there. All that I knew was it was the place to make me go forwards, not in circles as I had been these past few years. I walked down that stretch, and although I felt something slink in the shadows, I wasn't afraid or even bothered.

Once I reached the end of the tunnel to emerge onto the plaza of District One, almost directly outside Charles' accessory shop, it was then that everything fell into place.

I was barely out the tunnel before I felt someone crash into me. The sheer force was enough to make me stumble a few steps backwards, but as I breathed in the aroma of that brown hair, I really didn't care for the fact my arms were awkwardly held in the air.

I struggled to return her embrace, but I tried all the same. Was this what it was like, having a place to go back to?

"It's so good to see you, Liam! I think you've even grown a bit." Aerith looked up from my chest, those large green eyes alight with such liveliness I couldn't help but find the feeling contagious. She pulled away, but she still kept smiling. Her hair was tied up as it always was, with an overcompensating bow and a long braid, yet it seemed more enthralling than my memory served. She seemed healthier, too. "Have you been eating well?"

I gave her a perplexed look. Although we were distant friends, it was a strange thing to say upon meeting after all this time. Behind Aerith, I could see Tifa pulling a similar face to me as she got up from her seat. Judging by the askew chair opposite her, the two had been chatting over coffee when I made my unexpected arrival.

Tifa took her mug, using her free hand to gesture behind her where the bar of the tavern was. "I'll be back there." She had directed this at Aerith, but she didn't seem to hear as she furrowed her eyebrows at my shoulders.

"You need to take better care of yourself. I'll give you a haircut before you leave – it's looking like a bird's nest."

I laughed softly. She was so animated despite the late hour, and I found it fascinating how she picked at my appearance before my travels themselves. "Have you been well?"

Her hand was by her side, and I had the suspicion she was fighting every inch of it not to brush at the dust and dirt on my clothes. She was a fair bit older than me (yet it didn't show at all), so she had often felt the need to keep an eye on me since my father died. Now that I thought about it, perhaps that was why she wanted me alone to survive when she knew Radiant Garden was at its end. In between the flower arranging for both weddings and funerals, with her signature dahlia that symbolised elegance and an eternal bond, she was one of the most motivated churchgoers Father had raised.

"I've been good," she replied hastily. "I've just been here, helping out everyone else. Nothing like what you've been doing."

I grinned. "And Cloud? You two together yet?"

She flushed a marvellous shade of pink that put her ribbon to shame. Her affection for Cloud was apparent to all except for Cloud himself, and though she didn't ask how I knew, that was enough to suggest she too was aware of that fact. "I tried…for a long time. I prayed every day, yet nothing came out of it. In the end, I had to learn to move past it. He's been spending most of his time helping Vincent, so I don't see him much anyway. It makes it easier."

"Vincent?" I repeated.

That was all it took to rear the head of the killer in me. Aerith deserved to have the man she had loved for nearly ten years. She suffered more hardships than most, yet she was also the firmest believer. How was any of that fair? How dare Father influence her to think her misfortunes were part of the natural order, and not something she could seize for herself.

With the death of Vincent Valentine, Cloud would finally notice how impeccable that one dahlia was amongst the bouquet.

**-x-**

It wasn't until I spoke to Demyx alone that I realised just how unusual he was. Whilst he was more than happy to laugh and encourage the other members to do the same, he could be pretty sour when he wanted to be. Where his façade was that of glee and undying hyperactivity, once that was stripped from him, there was only one thing that really stuck: defeat.

When something got to Number IX, it _really_ got to him. In our brief conversation on the Altar of Naught, his mulish attitude really stood out to me. I cared enough to catch a quick glimpse of his life, a world of neglect and cruelty that had deterred him from everything else. To him, he was the one people tossed to one side not because he was useless, but because he was an insult to look at. To him, no one did anything for him because he was a liability, and they didn't do a thing to help him improve.

I could understand the logic of how he became who he was. No one could be bothered with him, so there was no reason why he should strive for standards. In that one conversation, I decided to eliminate him from my plans after all. If I put too much on him, there was no way to tell if he'd be thrilled to be needed or upset to work even harder.

Larxene had never seen the same interest in Demyx as I did, instead making a move on the next number up, Axel. In hindsight it worked to our favour. She was a natural in reeling him in, and as her relationship with him grew stronger as she stroked his shoulders and chest more and more frequently, I knew that she was rejecting her memories as a Somebody further to the back of her head.

The last time Lea and I had spoken was when we had buried my father. Although Lea was meant to regularly visit the Father (like any other person did when they needed help), he chose to handle the low self-esteem and anorexia alone. But as Larxene relayed every conversation they had together, I had to wonder if he was that same insecure boy.

I spent more time out of the castle after missions, particularly to keep Naminé company (since Larxene was adamant not to come near her until necessary) and to find credible ways to usurp the Organisation with her talents. The one time Larxene and I had a mission together, I made sure to introduce her to Lady Death, a name I found more polite than 'Vincent's Nobody'. I didn't visit Lady Death much, but each time I did, she grew in size and her wings became larger and more fearsome. When the time was right, she would heed my call.

Of course, it didn't take long for people to notice, namely Luxord. As always, he didn't approach me to ask. He simply had the constant impression that I was up to no good, and although he wasn't making a move at all, I didn't want that move to be against me.

"Marluxia, a word."

I turned on my heel as I met eye contact with Saïx again. "You're not happy with the report?"

He didn't answer my question, but as he inserted my paperwork to the bottom of the pile on the clipboard, I knew that he hadn't stopped me for that. "Xemnas is aware that you have been hiding a Nobody in Castle Oblivion. When were you planning to report this?"

A soft laugh escaped before he had even finished the question. For better or for worse, the Superior had noticed my scuttling. "In due course. She has exceptional talent."

Saïx lowered his gaze as he flicked through the pages of his trusted equipment. His eyebrows were furrowed, but it wasn't enough to mar his forehead. "Regardless of your negligence, Xemnas has decided to let you take full custody of her. She will be expected to join us in the Round Room to become an official member once you fill her in on the situation. Her name will be—"

"It's Naminé," I said in a stern tone, interrupting him so that I didn't become contaminated from Xemnas' deceptive ideas. If she was already out of his grasp, there was no way I was going to make it easier for him. "That's what she told me."

The scar across Saïx's face creased as his amber eyes narrowed considerably. We both knew that Xemnas wouldn't be best pleased with the news, but there was no two ways about it. It was a tough position, but the Superior really couldn't do much with Naminé without me. That was exactly how I had steered her, why I had kept her in the dark in the first place. Saïx was just as aware of this.

He pried a sheet of paper out the stack, the clip snapping back in place with no restraint. "Xemnas has also charged you with Castle Oblivion, where you will harness and develop…Naminé's power over memories. As Nobodies, who have nothing but memories to remember our previous selves by, it is naturally a curious area of exploration."

A strange look crossed his face, but I didn't know him well enough to know what it meant. He held out the single sheet, and I interpreted that as a sign to take it. "You are to inform us of her progress and, when you see fit, your mission would then be to use her to get to the Keyblade wielder, Sora."

I folded the paper in half, not even opting to skim its contents. It was a list of instructions from a leader I had no inclination to follow. "Understood. I'm honoured he would entrust me with such an important mission."

Not to mention that this mission could very well work in my favour. If Xemnas only needed Sora to fulfil his ultimate desire…

The ends of Saïx's mouth twisted into a mild sneer. Perhaps he, too, thought it amusing how complacently the Superior had overlooked my actions. "Naturally, you won't be the only one going to Castle Oblivion when it comes to taking the Keyblade wielder. Is there anyone in particular you would like to work with – Luxord, perhaps?"

I blinked a little too forcefully. That would be against everything I had set out. "Although he and I may seem on good terms, he is a gambler and a man who would succumb to such low levels. I can't find myself working with such questionable morals. Gamblers are demons in human form – if you were smart enough, you wouldn't put a man like that in the one place he could destroy everything we've worked for."

It was harsh, but I had to make sure he wouldn't come to Castle Oblivion. Although nothing was set in stone, I couldn't risk everything I had worked for to disappear without a trace. Luxord, unlike Larxene, knew exactly how I worked. If anything was to happen, I wanted at least someone to know what I was trying to accomplish. It would take a good long while, but he would definitely figure it out.

I came from a righteous background. Although I was the one that they should have watched out for, I could pile all that suspicion onto Luxord and they wouldn't realise I was all that and more.

If I really wanted to pry away each Nobody from Xemnas' greedy grip, I had to think beyond who I was.


	15. Acquiescence

**XV. Acquiescence**

Vincent was already waiting for me. Although Aerith had said that he was withdrawn and had a tendency to shut himself away for days at a time, he was right there on the edge of the fountain. One hand skimmed the water, his collar pulled up high and his fringe messy.

As I approached, shifting a loose tile with a clunk, his gaze lifted from the illuminated mosaic of two Dalmatians (which I didn't recall seeing before).

His expression barely changed when he recognised me. "Liam." He didn't elaborate any more than that, perhaps thinking there was little point pretending to be interested. Even in Radiant Garden, he was rarely one to ask questions. "Why are you here?" he demanded, his voice level and deep as it always was; however, there was a definite touch of danger as he blinked slowly.

My hand reached for the back of my trousers. Vincent had frequented my father more times than anyone else, and as the two would spend hours in seclusion, Father never disclosed what warranted such intense sessions. I had seen depression, but Vincent was slightly off the mark. I disliked the special treatment.

We were never close, but I felt compelled to tell him regardless. "I'm here to kill you."

His head lowered, burying his nose into the folds of his scarlet collar. For a brief moment, I thought I heard him laugh. "You're kinder than the Father."

I wasn't expecting to hear that, but the man didn't give me time to be surprised. "Where Father Salvato would assure me all was forgiven, I could never bring myself to believe it. You understand me, Liam. Sometimes we're beyond saving, beyond the lies that everything will work out…because we're only human."

He stumbled onto his feet, leaning more to his left side before correcting himself. Where I recall his left arm being amputated just above the elbow, there was the makings of a metal claw that was heavier than the framework appeared. His arm, much like his past, was a secret he kept close. "With the Father's help, I managed. But since his death and leaving Radiant Garden, it's become increasingly harder to keep my head above the water. I wake up and I know I'm slipping. Only a little each day, but I know that it will eventually consume me. Cloud's been supportive, more than I deserve, and then I wonder."

I couldn't understand a word of what he was saying. How could Father listen to this and not offer him the words he needed to hear? How could Father feed him righteous blessings from the very angels that had failed him? Vincent was insecure, maybe sick – death, in comparison, was a merciful path.

The tall man jerked his head slightly, and I instantly knew what he meant. I complied, pulling out the trusted knife I had stolen from the Land of Dragons. After practice, with its unique shape and strength, I realised stabbing was more effective than slashing.

"Every day I face the world, I also endanger it. It's a miracle I made it this far, but both your father and Cloud see past what is practical, and only choose to see what suits them and what they want to believe." Although his expression hadn't changed at all as he continued to pour out his every thought, perhaps the same thoughts he went through all day, I certainly felt my facial muscles tug just trying to look strong.

We barely knew each other, yet how could he talk so freely?

His one hand reached up to unbuckle his cape with skilled dexterity. "I will lose this battle. When that comes, I will slaughter those closest to me." As he let the distressed cape fall to the floor to reveal that sad smile he had been hiding from everyone else, he couldn't have made himself clearer. "Please help me, Father."

**-x-**

I knew that the moment Xemnas glossed over the mission at Castle Oblivion, Luxord would make every effort to stop me. I appreciated the gesture to no end, but there was only so much devotion could do before it became suffocating. It was amazing how much of his old self remained despite the empty shell of apparent nonexistence, how much loyalty could shape one man who had otherwise tossed everything on the backburner.

I had made precautions and every effort to stall him, but our final farewell was inevitable.

"Marluxia, might I have a moment?"

I stopped in my tracks, the sanctuary of the Grey Area only a little further down the corridor. We both knew what we were after, but it was a mission I couldn't refuse.

I blinked slowly. "Must we do this? I know what you want to say."

"This will be the last time," Luxord promised, and there wasn't anything that disproved that statement. Much like the way he was brought up in the casino, where he boasted power through looks alone, he was just as powerful by feigning submission. Being the underdog of the Organisation must surely have sharpened that talent.

I tossed a few stray strands behind my shoulder. "I'm listening."

Luxord cracked the tiniest smile. "Thank you. I felt that I should make my view clear to you before you go ahead with the mission at Castle Oblivion. I speak to you as a friend and an ally – you need to step down."

I frowned. "Then you would also know I can't do that."

"Are you in a position to inform me of why?" he challenged, raising his chin slowly. Never in all those months had I seen him get angry, and now was the closest I could see that happening. His voice was bitter, but his expression was the same as always. In a way, it was hard to gauge his exact mood until he opened his mouth with controlled temperament. He knew how to play his hand – he was using emotions to get his opponent thinking, not because he let them best him.

In cases like this, I had to look past his deliberate tricks. "I could, but I don't want to," I replied simply. I knew he didn't want me to throw my life away, but it was only through this dishonest act that I could save everyone. Step out of line where no one else dared, so that the others would start to think for themselves. If I told Luxord of my plans, he could easily usurp it or make it harder for me to carry it out. "I'm to strip Sora of his memories to make Roxas our archangel. That is the mission and I intend to see it through."

And, much to my annoyance, he didn't buy it. "It's rather fortuitous how Larxene will also be there, isn't it? The two of you have another plan in the shadows. I haven't been able to work out the details; however, you should seriously reconsider your prospects. How much good can come out of it and is it worth it?"

I wanted to tell him outright it was worth it, yet I couldn't bring myself to say it. One wrong sentence could unravel everything; it was a wonder if he really couldn't pick up on my intentions at all. But like me, just how much was he letting on?

Luxord sighed quietly. "Or at the very least, is there any way you could assure me that your own mission won't endanger you any more than the Organisation's mission alone?"

I knew the end result; the mission surrounding Castle Oblivion had merely assisted me in finalising my plans. At best, I had worked out my future was a two-pronged fork. In life or death, I would make certain to save everyone from Xemnas. At the end of the day, I was a traitor and that fact would eventually catch up to me. It was a question of when. I would either live on as their saviour or die a scapegoat for a noble purpose.

There was no way he would understand, at least not yet. "I can tell you now it won't be dangerous. I merely want to do additional things at the Castle."

He quirked an eyebrow. "When I informed Saïx of your questionability, I have the inkling he made certain to keep us separated. Was that intentional?"

I laughed hollowly. I knew Jack so well it even surprised me. If I alone had dropped the blame on Luxord, there was still a chance we could have gone to Castle Oblivion together. Luxord expressing his concern had only heightened how connected we were, and that would ultimately be the most suspicious item on Saïx's radar.

"You claim to be a friend and an ally – had you considered your actions as persistent?" Off-handed as it sounded to Luxord, I found it hard not to let my mannerisms betray me. Just like in the past, he was trying to delay the inevitable. The one time I need him to stop, he was warning me that I was making the wrong choice.

He knew Liam. He didn't know what I had become.

Luxord didn't answer immediately, but the worry lines faded one by one as he gave a wry smile. "I apologise. If you consider my words as nothing more than a nuisance, then I have no right to stop you. I would like to reiterate that you should look out for yourself."

I turned on my heel; this conversation was getting long enough. "I always do."

As I waved a hand over my shoulder in dismissal, strutting towards the Grey Area with undying purpose, there was a distinct pang of concern at the back of my mind. I had sworn to dig out these strangers from their pit of despair, but was there the smallest chance I could fail? Could I die and entrust the mission to everyone else, only for them to smash such a delicate plan? Was it even possible for a sinner to die a martyr?

By the time I entered the Grey Area though, I was grinning. One man could still worry for this tarnished soul – that in itself was reassurance enough.


	16. Deliverance

**XVI. Deliverance**

I was too late.

I had slain men with no discretion. Every man I killed either begged for their life or were too incapacitated to say it. It went against my morals to kill someone so pure. Where I was normally so practiced in delivering death swiftly, my hand fell short of the mark. I had wavered, and now I had to pay the price.

Vincent's blood was strewn across the tiles from where I had stabbed the body, the cloak soaking up each drop with little coercion. I should have been quicker, so the thing inside him wouldn't have realised its vessel was dying.

The fearsome creature gave a mighty roar, a shrill noise that made the very windows threaten to burst out their frames. Leathery wings opened out, scratching the wall. It stretched those tired muscles, where I had a good chance to take note of the large symbol on its chest as it puffed it out triumphantly. And as it unfurled the long claws and red eyes turned its gaze from the heavens to me, I knew what I had to do.

I gripped onto the knife tightly.

I was afraid. I had grown so used to the routine of killing and leaving, I had forgotten how to experience anything other than sheer boredom. It was liberating to know I could still evolve, still be as human as everyone else. Yet just as I had grown used to the alleviated tension and heightened need for survival, the sensation disappeared in an instant.

I think I had dropped the knife at some point. I had long tears on my trousers and back, but for some reason they weren't deep enough to draw blood despite it stinging like mad.

I could feel the stench of death against my cheeks, that hot and pungent air as the demon roared again, but that wasn't going to deter me. I didn't try to retrieve my weapon; I didn't even move. Why run when it was just as eager to destroy me?

The demon set its wings back in preparation for another full-on attack. If it was to overpower me, it would surely harm the ones that Vincent so wanted to protect. Felling the beast wasn't about Aerith now or even helping the other townsfolk; it was just correcting the blunder I made for somehow treating Vincent differently to my past victims.

Live to kill. Kill to live. That was all there was to a reaper.

There was a strong gale as the demon brought its monstrous wings down. I didn't hesitate as I raised both hands in front of me. I wasn't filled with dread when my feet remained planted in the ground and made no attempt to flee. I had let Vincent get to me when I should have treated him like all the others: without mercy.

It was in that chaos that I caught that faint aroma of death. Not of rotting flesh or raw meat, but of sweet cherry blossoms.

**-x-**

My future was a two-pronged fork. I had entered Castle Oblivion with that mind-set, curious and eager to see what flowers would bloom from the seeds I had sown, but like anything I had to make preparations they would still flourish in my absence.

In life or in death, I had to ensure the survival of those less able to alone. Once I had my eyes set on whom to help, whether they themselves were aware of it or not, there was no turning back.

Ironically, in stark contrast to Liam's concept of liberating the soul and unleashing their full potential, the basis of Naminé's power was to bind the Keyblade wielder with the shackles of lies, deceit and fake memories. Through imprisonment, Sora could guide the Organisation to a brighter future.

One sacrifice to save the rest…Him or me.

At first, proceedings went surprisingly well. Zexion and Lexaeus kept themselves to themselves, slinking to the shadows of the basement for their own form of research. Vexen had made it his affair to challenge me at every turn and, much like how we met, he mocked how I exerted my superiority. It was that mentality I took advantage of. I knew he would eventually find out my objective, and in an attempt to rattle me, he would warn the Keyblade wielder.

Larxene had considered Axel an ally by that point, and I welcomed the way she had started to express herself through coy actions and dry humour. I had concerns at first about Axel, but when I had him eliminate the scientist, I realised that I could overlook the boy he used to be. He was no longer the one people kicked around because they could, the boy who chose to sit back because they didn't want to be noticed.

The way I saw it, the open murder served as Axel's test of his loyalty as well as a means to observe how Sora's developments were when faced with the truth. Naminé's powers proved to be incredible – there was an undeniable success as Sora chose to ignore all logic and let the memories bind his soul.

Although I was meticulous in my plans, I had made a grave miscalculation.

I should have known that Naminé would take Sora's side over mine. Through the days and weeks, she had been surrounded by six Nobodies, each with undeniable sin and influential darkness. At best it was a gamble – she would either wallow in our deep memories or find refuge in Sora's. As she hid away and rewrote each of the Keyblade wielder's memories, his love for her grew stronger. I should have realised the hardship would only increase.

She foolishly put her puny, petty emotions above the greater purpose. Even where she knew what fate the Organisation faced, even where Sora himself was willing to give up his heart for her, she hesitated. I had steered Naminé to face freedom and the open ocean, but she was too weak to pay the price. The desire of one had destroyed the hopes of many.

Plan A instantly fell apart.

Naturally I had been working more towards plan B, yet now that time was nigh, I wasn't entirely sure if I could go through with it. By betraying Xemnas, I had openly admitted I was the leader of a rebellion. By tarnishing who I was, it gave the other members room to think for themselves. They never understood me, but they would wonder all the same why I did what I did. As they became a little more aware of their horns, they would trust Xemnas a little less.

Essentially, I had to die to make room for their faith in themselves.

But as I stared down at that merry band of misfits, of Sora's friends and the failed replica that was Vexen's life's work, I formulated a plan C. Xemnas needed the Keyblade to complete Kingdom Hearts – considering how long it had taken him to find Sora in the first place, killing the boy would stall the ultimate objective. Beyond that…my fate would surely not be that of a martyr or a hero.

Like I always did, I would kill and disappear.

I couldn't die at the hands of a child. I had heeded the call of a holy mission – one way or another I would help the Organisation.

"Imbeciles," I growled.

For the first time, in a very long time, I found myself praying as I raised an arm to summon my weapon. A single petal started to float down as my thoughts became hers.

_Come, Dahlia. Let us smite this abomination into oblivion. Destroy the weapon that killed our sister in cold blood, the child that was still learning to walk. Destroy the boy who felt nothing as Larxene breathed her last. Rain down judgement on the Keyblade, prove that us mere mortals can make a stand against the legends of old. _

_Bring him your deliverance, so that foolish girl will know she made the wrong choice._

"You would knowingly shackle your heart, with the chain by memories born of lies? You would be one who has a heart, yet cast aside your heart's freedom?" Sora had become exactly like I thought he would, sacrificing everything for Naminé. If she had seen our mission through to the end, Sora would have become complacent in giving up his heart and soul for her. Anything he did would be for her.

And now, even after he had seen that everything was a lie, he still insisted on acting upon such fake memories. I had brought them together, and with that came strength. The strength to rebuild his heart around her and that single promise he had made to someone else. Even in the given situation he was strong, his heart was weaker than what it was before. The real Sora, before reaching Castle Oblivion, was so much stronger, yet he continued to turn his back on that for Naminé.

He didn't have the courage to discard the witch's shackles and burn her.

"You turn from the truth because your heart is weak. You will never defeat me!"


	17. Epilogue

**XVII. Epilogue**

It was surprisingly warm after I had helped to bury my father. The clouds hung low and grey, yet that didn't prevent the winter sun from poking through. Blood alone wasn't enough for me to resume the civil duty of the clergyman, yet Father had acted like it was. Instead, his closest colleagues were assigned with the service.

Once the ceremony was over, they talked in hushed tones as they competed to become the new Father.

The crowd started to thin, paying their last respects before resuming their lives. I didn't have a lot of feelings to reach out for him, so it wasn't long that I made my way to the plaza. To everyone else, I was the boy who had just lost his father.

As I stared into the shallow waters of the fountain, undisturbed and untouched, I could still feel his violent struggles as I held him down. My left hand shook for a long time afterwards. If anyone was to look into the murder, I had to keep them off my path.

A red-haired boy went to stand next to me. As we both let our eyes gaze across the water, I was almost afraid that he was going to offer condolences.

"I know you killed him."

I laughed softly as I looked across at Lea. He was wearing that atrocious scarf again, and it took a lot for me not to wrinkle my nose at the sight of it. It took a murderer to know one, and I was undoubtedly the better one. His shirt was too big on him, and the arms that prodded out were skinny and as fragile as they looked. I could drown him right here in the fountain and he wouldn't be nearly as hard as my father. His mane of red hair tried to hide his weak spot, and that made me more inclined to snap his neck and hear that glorious crack.

I turned on my heel to leave. I lightly touched his shoulder, and I relished how Lea jolted in fear.

"I'll trust that you'll dismiss such thoughts. I shouldn't need to kill you too, right?"

**-x-**

The onslaught of cherry blossoms had been so strong I had thought my time was up. Lady Death was already behind me from the final battle, waiting to lead me to the afterlife, yet no such guidance came. I had physically fallen to bits, gone with the flurry of pink, yet I still had all my senses.

The stench dissipated, leaving only a light breeze that felt through my hair. The ground licked at my face and torso; it didn't feel like I was indoors or anywhere. When I opened my eyes, it started to make a little sense when, once I lifted my head out of the grass, the exterior of Castle Oblivion was visible on the horizon. I felt something within me quicken at the sight.

I had been resurrected. Through my sacrifice (albeit reluctantly), I had somehow been granted a chance to live again. Where I should have died, I had the chance to reap the rewards. To live blissfully for the rest of my days? That was hardly my style.

I didn't need to test my legs to know they weren't going to move. Although it had only felt like minutes since I fell at the hands of the Keyblade wielder, my body was under the impression it hadn't moved for months. Sprawled across the grass like a discarded doll…I couldn't afford to keep still.

I needed to know exactly what I was. I could summon Graceful Dahlia as normal, and could feel my heart pound even faster in excitement as I gripped onto her cold green snath. When I pushed my palm against the blade, I felt the sharp pain as I saw blood, _my_ blood at last, but it didn't feel like mine. As I summed a dark corridor, my stomach became heavy with dread and hesitance I had never experienced.

All that aside, was I a Nobody or a Somebody? If I had reclaimed the heart (according to Xemnas' theory, not mine), did a little darkness remain?

I decided against venturing out this world. Like Castle Oblivion had always been to me, it had its own way to steer me onto the right path. When I should have appeared where I was born, the world had pulled me to the meadows to entice me into staying. It knew I was a wanderer, and that given the choice I would leave.

It was peculiar as the day wore on. I grew hungry and I was fatigued from retrieving my Gummi Ship. I would sleep to forget about my lack of resources, then wake up feeling worse. Where I used to effortlessly swing my scythe in arches and slashes, I barely lasted more than a few minutes with those same techniques. It wasn't just the insufficient intake of subsidence that affected my performance; I was weak.

I didn't doubt Castle Oblivion, and it didn't disappoint.

During my final days, I had uncharacteristically become rash. My long days of solitude helped to purge those last thoughts, and it was just as well that when company finally came for me, I was back to normal.

"Axel?"

I lowered my scythe, leaning her on my side now I didn't have much strength to hold it for long. The last I remembered, I had instructed Sora to eliminate Axel. Admittedly I hadn't been there to see the fight, but it still disgusted me to see him again. There was something off with the encounter – he arrived by Gummi Ship, not using a dark corridor.

The redhead tilted his head to the side.

My eyebrows furrowed as I realised how the deep purple marks under his eyes were no longer there. "Or do you go by Lea now?"

"So you do remember," he said slowly.

I didn't feel like responding to that, so I just shrugged.

His character had apparently changed since we last spoke in Radiant Garden. I had him down as the boy who often partook in anti-social behaviour, yet it seemed the Father's death had an adverse effect. He wanted to be seen, recognised, remembered. More than anything, he wanted to matter and fit in with everyone else. That was what Larxene had surmised as she too took interest into the Somebody.

Lea was a child, like the others who killed me in the end. The way he talked now wasn't of tact like Axel, but more of a little boy thinking they were better than a classmate.

I could still remember how Sora slashed at me, how he fired spell after spell to get me to lower my blade. I could still feel the betrayal as Naminé refused to see our mission to the end.

I laughed softly. A traitor to fill in another…I couldn't trust him even as that attention-seeking Somebody. Where Axel was at least a challenge and cunning, Lea just wasn't the same. "I assume you didn't come for a heartfelt reunion."

Lea didn't find my pun greatly amusing. He shifted his weight onto his other foot as he tried to find the right words. "When we were Nobodies…that is, when we worked together at Castle Oblivion over a year ago, I betrayed you and nothing can change that. I wanted to get past those ill-feelings you hold against me."

That was the closest I was going to get for an apology. In our last days, we had stabbed each other in the back, traded blows and continued to plot even afterwards. My laugh was harsh, and as if it mirrored my derision, the winds started to pick up. Axel wouldn't have succeeded in betraying me if Naminé hadn't been straddling between right and wrong. Axel had no _idea_ of the scale of my mission. His betrayal wasn't as big as he made it out to be.

"Don't flatter yourself. I made sure I would succeed one way or another – did you honestly think I wouldn't make preparations?"

A look of scepticism crossed Lea's face, and he started to realise what I meant. "And did you succeed?"

I shrugged, but not just about his question. A lot could happen in a whole year. What did I miss out on? "Why don't you enlighten me? I didn't have the chance to stick around."

Lea finally got down to the reason why he came to see me, and I came to realise that Sora hadn't killed Axel in Castle Oblivion like I thought. He had made a lucky escape, which put him in a good position to give a truthful account. In the space of a year, Roxas had left the Organisation and the Castle That Never Was met a similar fate to that of Castle Oblivion. Each member was obliterated by Sora, with his regained his memories that Naminé had reconnected as an apology.

But as Lea continued to explain how some of the members had awakened already where they were born (much like I had), there was only more disaster waiting around the corner.

"So Xehanort is gathering mindless vessels to become part of the main event." I was certainly right in thinking Xemnas was up to no good, but I couldn't have imagined it to be of this scale. I had fulfilled my purpose, yet they still demanded my help. In my fierce mission to take the Organisation away from the Superior, I hadn't been able to save Xigbar (who was in on it from the start anyway) and Saïx. The others' whereabouts were still unknown.

Lea shrugged. "That's about the size of it. Ergo why I'm trying to find the rest, but unfortunately you were the only one that Dilan found. The others were all recruited by Braig, which as you know wouldn't really extend his help to the wrong side. So from here on out it's guesswork. Ienzo knows how and where Edym died, so he's confident that Edym would do everything to return there. He probably said that so he could send me after you on purpose, with us being traitors together. I don't suppose you have any ideas about the other two?"

I was having a hard time filtering through the Somebody names, but it was certain that all the founders of the Organisation had made it to their home world safely enough. Edym had to be…Demyx, which left only the remaining numbers of X and XII.

I wouldn't have thought Luxord or Larxene would be weak enough to become mindless puppets. I knew a sheep I could save when I saw one, and I knew for a fact that both were exactly like I was now. They were the only ones who truly understood my intentions to die a scapegoat and a martyr to save them. There was no way Xehanort could crawl into a shell as resilient as that.

"Before I say anything, please be honest with one thing." Although I could easily forgive and forget, I didn't want to. Axel was like me – he had a twisted way of showing it, but there was only one thing that everything he did came to. Lea wasn't going to be much different. By finding that one thing, I could understand, maybe even predict, the deceit and backstabbing before it came. "What do you hope to accomplish?"

And, for the first time as a Somebody, Lea grinned and didn't hesitate in answering. "I just want Isa back."

We had a common enough goal, and I could live with that. If our mission was similar until Saïx's Somebody returned, I just had to make sure to prepare. "Your objective falls into mine." At long last, the Graceful Dahlia burst into petals and dissipated. I didn't need to be on my guard around him, at least for now. "Luxord wouldn't hesitate in trying out the portal. He would know it would be dangerous, but that won't hold him back."

Lea gave me a bemused look. "Luxord? The two of you barely said a word to each other. How would you know—"

"We go back further than you think," I interrupted. I knew Luxord more than anyone in the Organisation, and more importantly how he was wired. Regardless of where he was born, I knew he wouldn't return to Traverse Town. For someone who went through the aliases like his tailored suits, he really was nobody. He wouldn't rebuild his casino, not after destroying it on purpose, and he certainly wouldn't make amends with his brother. It was far too late for that.

Luxord was never one to dwell on the past. Unlike me, he chose not to bear grudges so he could look forwards. Without bias and without the influence of the previous game.

"Is there anywhere in particular he took a liking towards? A world he spent his evenings in?"

Lea pouted. "A lot of his missions were at Port Royal. Is that somewhere he would go?"

I could tell Lea had never been to the world. By name alone, Port Royal sounded safe enough. Past the treacherous waters though, there were all sorts of daredevils and pirates up to no good. A gambler was a friend amongst them. "Definitely. There have been a few things I've been meaning to tell him anyway. Would you mind if I went to retrieve him?"

Lea gave me a bemused look before giving a light shrug in defeat. "Just so long as you can explain our situation and meet us at Radiant Garden. Don't say anything that would make him run off and hide." He jerked his head slightly as he gave a light scoff. "I guess that leaves me with Larxene."

I could very well have let Lea find Jack Ludor; however, the matter of our unstable friendship was long overdue. I had lied to him only so far as necessary, and now I was here, I wanted nothing more than to start again. I owed it to him to explain Castle Oblivion, why I feigned ignorance, why I killed his dad. Our friendship had to exist beyond the lies and the secrets, beyond the bluffing and the tricks so one of us would come out the victor.

Lea turned on his heel as he made towards his Gummi Ship. "I'll catch you later, Rauliam."

I laughed softly as I let my name carry. Why did I still despise the man I had murdered and surpassed? He may have broken me beyond repair, but I knew now that people still needed me regardless. So long as humans continued to demand for salvation, one soul had to be sacrificed for the greater good.

That was why reapers were immortal.


End file.
